


Violent Delights

by pagetswh0re



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Happy Aaron Hotchner, Happy Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Light Angst, Mentions of miscarriage, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Past Aaron Hotchner/Haley Hotchner, Past Character Death, Protective David Rossi, Romance, Secretive Past, Slow Burn, Widowed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 41,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagetswh0re/pseuds/pagetswh0re
Summary: After joining the BAU, Juliette Leroux and Aaron Hotchner create a bond based on their similar personalities, a bond complicated by grief and the nature of their work.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Original Character(s), Aaron Hotchner/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 49





	1. beneath, between, and behind

Juliette Leroux knows that her presence isn't welcomed on a new team. Her distant personality can give the impression she's only there because she has to be, but it's never failed her in the field. As much as she acts like she doesn't, Juliette enjoys her job.

Nevertheless, she wasn't immediately thrilled when Erin Strauss asked her to transfer to the BAU. She's hear chatter of a 'rogue team' and she knows Strauss wants her there to reassure her that reinstating an agent who faked their death was a good idea. But the team's also known for taking down some of the most skilled criminals, and like hell if she isn't up for a good challenge.

So now she's being led down a hallway on the sixth floor of the Quantico FBI building, silently straightening out her blazer and pushing her jet black hair behind her ears. She can practically hear her mother in her ear, telling her to stand up straight and act as though she's not there to please anyone, as if it isn't second nature.

Juliette's expression remains neutral as they enter the office of her new unit chief. Strauss told her he's been through a lot, and his face definitely shows it. His deep brown eyes make his raven hair seem light, and his suit is as crisp as hers. "Juliette Leroux." She finally says.

"Aaron Hotchner." He introduces, his stern glare giving Juliette's a run for it's money. "You can call me Hotch."

He knows why Strauss insisted on adding a new member to his team, but he's more irritated that he didn't get a say in who it is. Although he's impressed by her accomplishments, specifically considering she was a public defender before joining the bureau, he could name a dozen people who he would choose for the job before Juliette. 

Strauss seems to ignore the tension in the room, instead assuming a cheery facade. "Let's introduce you to the team, shall we?"

The two nod, following their boss into the bullpen. Juliette's noticed the group studying her since they entered the floor, but she thought for profilers they'd be a little more subtle. Maybe they're trying to intimidate her, but she knows not to be affected. Up close, they look like any other unit she's worked on, sizing up her unreadable expression.

"This is Agent Leroux, starting today she's a member of the BAU." Strauss smiles, catching the attention of the profilers. "Leroux is one of our most promising agents, please welcome her with kindness."

She shakes hands with Agents Morgan, Jareau, and Prentiss, who all seem apprehensive of her presence. Juliette just nods to a waving Dr. Reid, before pausing. "Dave." She states, thankful they both have poker faces good enough to fool the group around them.

"Juliette, it's been awhile." Rossi replies.

Juliette nods, stepping back into her position next to Strauss. She places her hand to her chest, immediately knowing they would be profiling it. But it's a risk she continues to take, because feeling the rings that hang on the necklace under her shirt grounds her.

Their moment of awkward silence is interrupted by the entrance of a colorful woman, her concern focused only on Hotch. "It's the Piano Man, they want our help."

Hotch glances to Juliette one last time before turning to the rest of the team. "We have a case."

With one last nod to Strauss, she follows the rest of the team to the round table where the aforementioned woman, who introduces herself as Garcia, presents the case. "Houston PD needs our boots on the ground for the Piano Man case."

"The serial rapist?" Emily questions.

"A case we consulted on about eight months ago." Hotch answers. "Twelve victims over five years, he crosses racial and social lines."

"He knocks them out with a date-rape drug and binds them with piano wire. They wake up with no memory of the assault or how they got the permanent scars the wire leaves." Rossi adds.

"So he's power assertive." Prentiss thinks out loud.

"How does he dose them?" Juliette asks.

"Houston PD still isn't sure 'cause, you know, date rape drugs metabolize quickly, and he's keeping them for twelve hours." Garcia replies. "But this piece of work has elevated sick and twisted to a whole new dimension. Brittany Anderson filed a report after she woke up outside of the restaurant she was abducted from, and Vanessa Campbell was just reported missing."

"Those were victims two and five." Reid furrows his brow. "What's he getting from revisiting old victims? That seems careless for someone who's been so controlled up to now."

"Their fear. He wants them to know that no matter what, he can still get to them." Hotch answers, walking towards the door. "Wheels up in thirty."

Juliette slowly stands, only looking up from her file to address the team. "Nice to meet you all." She nods, before leaving to grab her go-bag.

On the jet, Juliette sits in a seat across from Rossi. She doesn't acknowledge the team anxiously waiting around her, hoping she will make the first move. She's able to profile more about a person by the way that they play their first move, something she learned from playing chess with her mother, so she patiently looks over the case file until someone says something. "So, how do you know Rossi?" Emily finally asks.

"He helped me join the bureau." Juliette responds, giving them an answer with enough truth that no one questions it. It's not a lie, Dave really did encourage her to join, but talking about how they truly met isn’t something she wants to do on their first case. 

With a confirming nod from Rossi, who knows what Juliette's doing, Morgan speaks up next. "How the hell did you get on Strauss's good side? I didn't know that woman could smile."

"I understand how politics work, I just keep that in mind when working with her." She answers, knowing in the back of her mind the agents wouldn't like this answer. Any field agent knows having politics get in the way of work if the worst case scenario, and having someone on your team who cares about them can become difficult. Juliette would say she's not like that, because she isn't, but inconsistencies in the assaults have her attention more.

\---

A day later, they've made decent headway with the case. They figured out the UnSub is dosing the victims with laced cigarettes, that he plays various piano songs during the assault, and that he's allergic to latex, but Juliette still has the nagging suspicion that they're missing something. She has a few theories, but nothing solid enough to share with the team.

Juliette _knows_ profiling is group effort, especially after a dinner with Dave over six years prior, in which he spent the whole time ranting about his first case back with the BAU and learning how _profiling is a group effort._ Although she wouldn't like those memories replaying themselves in her head, she also knows she cant introduce theories to a team based on a suspicion, it could get them sidetracked from the case facts.

She also knows her perceived coolness towards the team is rubbing them the wrong way, even if their team leader is the same way. Emily seemed to pick up on the underlying misogyny in their prejudice, because Juliette overheard her chewing out Morgan at the hotel the day before.

Today, they're gathered in a conference room at the precinct listening to Reid's updated geographic profile after the UnSub killed for the first time when the phone rings. "Go ahead, Garcia." Hotch answers, placing it on speaker.

"Sir, I've struck out on surgeons. In fact, none of the survivors saw the same health care professionals, or even went to the same hospitals. But then I asked myself, 'What would SSA Hotchner do?' So, I imagined myself in a really nice suit and widened my search." She rambles.

"What did you find?" Hotch asks, looking as though he's trying to contain his annoyance.

"I found an orderly, Herman Scobie, who rotates shifts at three different hospitals that the victims visited. According to hospital networks, he accessed their insurance months after the attacks."

"We should talk to him." Hotch says, cueing the team to get ready.

At Scobie's house, Juliette enters around the back with Spencer. She knows she was only given the back because Hotch hasn't seen her tactical abilities yet, and she doesn't blame him. Therefore, she doesn't expect Morgan to yell "Out the back!" just moments after they enter.

Scobie attempts to climb the fence, and he would have made it over if Juliette didn't run up behind him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and throwing him to the ground. She's handcuffing the man when Morgan and JJ exit the house, holstering their guns. "Damn Leroux, you've got muscle." Morgan raises his eyebrows.

"I'm a field agent, not just a pretty face." She retorts, passing the squirming man off to him before helping JJ search his van.

Once they find latex-free gloves, Emily and Hotch go back to the station with Scobie while Juliette, Reid, Morgan, and JJ stay to search his house. JJ's categorizing his music, naming artists out loud. "Evanescence, Green Day, Nickelback."

"So Scobie's into that nu-metal goth stuff." Morgan jokes.

"This guy doesn't even have Rage Against the Machine." JJ shakes her head, earning odd looks from the others. "What? I rock."

Finally, it clicks for Juliette. "How old were you when you started listening to that band?"

"Uh- I was probably a teenager." JJ shrugs. "Why?"

"Well, fourteen is when we start making our own musical choices. Our cognitive development evolves at that age, and we start to form out own cultural identity. Those musical experiences imprint on us, our hormonal surges as teenagers may make the choices seem more personal and passionate. We may experiment with other musical selections, but no music impacts us as much as what we listened to when we were fourteen." Juliette explains.

"Scobie's what, 30? So he was fourteen in the mid nineties. But the Piano Man songs, those were all early eighties." She finishes, hoping the team will see what she does.

"Which means Scobie's too young to be the Piano man." Reid says.

"Apply the profile to Scobie and look at what's different, there's no piano wiring, there's no song played. He's simply revictimizing the survivors." Juliette adds.

"You think there are two UnSubs, the Piano Man and a copycat?" Morgan asks, looking skeptical. 

"Copycat studies the original UnSub in order to learn, but Scobie's a doppelgänger, he's trying to pass himself off as the Piano Man." Reid explains.

"Why?"

"Convenience." Juliette shrugs. "If he assaults the Piano Man survivors, they're less likely to reach out to the police. And if they do, the woman will claim it was the Piano Man. No one thinks to look at hospital orderlies."

"I'm convinced." Morgan says, finally. "Let's go tell Hotch."

At the station, Hotch agrees with Juliette's theory, and uses it against Scobie to figure out who the Piano Man was targeting next. After security camera video shows the next vicim, Regina Lampert, baiting the Piano Man, and a chilling 911 call from her house, they conclude that she's taken him hostage.

While the team races to her house, Garcia identifies the man as Hamilton Bartholomew and confirms his fingerprints match ones from Regina's crime scene. Juliette enters the house with Morgan and Hotch, immediately faced with Regina pointing a gun to Scobie's head. "Regina, look at me." Morgan orders. "Drop the gun, okay?"

"I've waited five years for this-" Regina starts, but Juliette cuts her off.

"We ran the fingerprint the police got off of your glasses, do you remember? We compared it to Hamilton's, it didn't match."

"That's- That's impossible."

"If you pull that trigger, you're going to kill an innocent man. Drop the gun." Juliette adds, and Regina actually listens.

As Juliette holsters her gun, Morgan cuffs Regina and Hotch moves to the man. "Hamilton Bartholomew, you're under arrest for the rapes of twelve woman and the murder of Vanessa Campbell. You have the right-"

Juliette doesn't think she'll get Regina's screams out of her head for awhile.

On the jet, Juliette's sitting across from Reid, lost in a book, when Morgan turns from the adjacent seats. "That was good work, what you did with Regina. Seems kinda risky politics-wise though, don't you think?"

"While I understand politics, I don't respect them." Juliette says, looking up from her book.

"You sound like you speak from experience." Emily raises her eyebrows.

"I do." She says, knowing the team is expecting a story and she's not going to tell it.

In an effort to relieve some of the tension, Spencer looks up from his own book. "That's an unusual way to spell your name, are you French?"

"My father was." She nods, looking back to her novel.

"I'm sorry." He mutters, deciding the tension can simmer for the rest of the ride.

\---

Back at Quantico, the sun's barely starting to set, but Garcia's more than eager to greet them as they exit the elevator. "There's my favorite crime-fighting team! Who's up for drinks?"

While most of the team's down for a break, Hotch and Rossi excuse themselves to their offices. When Garcia turns to Juliette, she shakes her head. "I'm going to catch up on paperwork, have fun." Before Garcia could press her more, she's already halfway to her desk.

She sits for almost two hours, filling out paperwork for her transfer until her hand's too cramped to write. Sighing, she stands up and walks across the empty bullpen to Rossi's office. She knocks twice before entering, not waiting for a response.

It seems they both knew this was coming, because Rossi simply sets down his pen as Juliette sits at the chair across from him. "You could have called." He sighs, skipping the pleasantries.

She presses her hand to her chest. "It's not you, I cut off most people after the funeral."

"Are you talking with your mom?" He asks, to which she nods.

"Thank you for not saying anything about Griff." She says, her tone hushed.

"They're profilers, they'll figure it out eventually." Rossi shrugs.

"I know. I just don't want their first impressions of me to be pity."

"You'd rather it be that you're the ice queen?" He half-laughs. "You know this team's different, they're more like family. You should consider lightening up a little bit."

Juliette exhales. "I'll try."

She stands up, walking towards the door before being stopped by his voice. "I'm proud of you. You know I'm here if you need anything."

"Thank you." She nods, knowing they've fallen right back into that father-daughter relationship from years ago.

As Juliette exits Quantico, Rossi makes his way to Hotch's office, knowing they have some explaining to do. Just as before, Rossi sits wordlessly across from Hotch as he starts. "How do you really know Leroux?"

"I was friends with her husband, Griffin."

Hotch's face softens. "I'm sorry."

"He was a good kid, definitely going places." Rossi nods.

"If I can, what happened to him? There's nothing about it in her file."

"I have theories, but officially it's classified."

This concerns Hotch, and Rossi can tell what he's thinking from his stiffening posture. "It's nothing like that, Griff and Juliette were made for each other. Griffin was trying to become an ambassador, working his way up the food chain. He could never mean harm, but I think he pissed off the wrong people in the process."

Hotch relaxes again. "She's smart, I see why Strauss likes her."

"She's a genius, she can give Reid a challenge."

"I think she scares Reid." Hotch shakes his head.

"She's not good at letting people in, reminds me of someone else I know." Rossi sighs, looking Hotch in the eye. "Just be careful, she's had enough loss in her life."

And without giving Hotch any clues as to what that means, he exits his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for reading. This story is inspired by Romeo and Juliet, but not based off of it. This chapter title is from the Rush song, I hope someone gets the reference!
> 
> Also, this is published on wattpad under the same name and username if you prefer that platform.


	2. devils roll the dice

Juliette considered taking Rossi’s advice to heart. Other than Morgan, this didn’t seem like the boys club she usually infiltrates. She thought about his words drifting to sleep that night, but being woken up by a call from Garcia only two hours later, she believes it was simply the half-bottle of wine making her soft.

Thankfully, she still had time to flatten her hair and dress in her signature black pantsuit, but no amount of makeup or aspirin could wipe the hangover from her face. Morgan seems to notice this, calling out to her as she sits at the round table clutching her coffee. “Late night?”

“You wish.” She quips, earning a laugh from Emily and Rossi. Their banter’s cut short by a flustered Garcia rushing into the room behind Hotch. While she prepares the presentation, their boss glances in the direction of the newest agent. Juliette feels his eyes on her, and instead of ignoring them, she glares right back.

Maybe she’s still a little drunk, but Juliette doesn’t even have to try to keep her eyes on Hotch, she’s simply stuck in that position, profiling his reaction. Meanwhile, Hotch is lost in his head, trying to figure out her angle. She’s private and quiet, but speaks as though she knows exactly what to say. He can’t figure out how someone can appear so bad at making friends, yet so good at knowing what everyone else is feeling. They’re only broken up by the sound of Garcia’s voice, to which they both look away.

“Danny Savino, floor manager at the Sapphire Lady Casino in Atlantic City, was found dead in his office this morning.” She winces. “Blunt force trauma to the head, an empty wallet and money clip left next to the body.”

“Mug shot, this guy’s got record.” Morgan points out.

“Savino was a member of the Agnoli crime family, they’re active in the Atlantic City area.” Hotch explains.

“Looks like a robbery gone bad, why was the BAU called in?” JJ asks.

“Eight one-dollar bills surrounding an eight card.” Hotch says as more photos appear on the screen. “And because Savino has ties to organized crime, agents in New Jersey are worried about things escalating. Wheels up in twenty.”

Juliette doesn’t bother to say anything to the team today, instead wandering to her desk to read the case file before they leave.

She’s still pouring over the file as the jet takes off, only half listening JJ, Emily, and Spencer debate what the best gangster flick is. She does, however, surprise them with a barely-audible laugh when Dave says, “I’ve had too much of the real thing to be a fan of Mob movies.”

In an effort to end that conversation, Hotch picks up the phone. “Garcia, did we get the crime scene surveillance video yet?”

“No, sir, because there wasn’t any.” She replies.

“That’s not possible. Every inch of a casino is surveilled every minute of every day.” Morgan shakes his head.

“Evidently, the footage has been tampered with.”

“All right, Reid, Prentiss, and Leroux, go to the crime scene. Dave, you and JJ find out is Savino was involved in anything the local authorities dont know about; Morgan and I will contact the local FBI office and arrange a cease-fire with the families.” Hotch orders.

Spencer turns to Juliette, who he’s sitting across from. “I heard you play chess.”

She sends a glare to Rossi, but nods. “Yeah, I do.”

Spencer looks as though he just saw puppy under his Christmas tree, pulling out a board. “Finally, no one else here will play with me anymore.”

So they set up a board, Juliette allowing Reid to play white in order to profile his first move. His technique is older, matching that of Denker or Sanguinetti, and she uses that to her advantage. While she learned in her childhood, Juliette now uses that of Kasporov and Polgár. An hour into their two hour flight, Spencer surrenders. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

“My mother.” She shrugs. “You’re good, I bet you’ve beat Dave more than once.”

Juliette basks in the scowl Rossi gives her, turning back to her files for the rest of the flight.

On the ground, her, Spencer, and Emily enter the room of Danny Savino with the help of another casino worker. “Electric strike lock, impressive.” Emily says.

“And hard to bypass.” Juliette adds, looking around the room.

“If this was a robbery, the UnSub must have slipped in right behind him.” Spencer concludes.

“Well, Savino could have known the killer.” Emily says. “He wasn’t expecting this to turn into a brawl.”

“You know, maybe the UnSub wasn’t, either. If this was premeditated, you think he would have brought a knife or gun with him. The bowling trophy’s one more a weapon of opportunity.”

While the two bounce ideas off of each other, Juliette’s inspecting the room with the worker. “This the only camera?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The disk was removed… But casinos have a central terminal that backs up and stores all surveillance footage, right?”

“Mr. Savino didn’t want that in his office, he put in a personal camera.”

Juliette’s conversation catches the attention of Spencer and Emily. “So the victim bypassed a security system that would have revealed his own killer. What didn’t he want anyone to see?”

Back at the field office, they’ve all made progress with their assigned tasks. “Danny Savino supplemented his income by loaning money to casino patrons.” Rossi says.

“Explains why he changed the camera in his office, he didn’t want his bosses to know he was freelancing.” Spencer adds. “So we’re looking for a gambler.”

“A gambler in Atlantic City, that narrows the field.” Rossi sighs.

\---

Three days and two more kills later, the UnSub’s still at large. Based on the profile, he’s a gambling addict and highly ritualistic, but they still have no leads as to who he is. At least, that was until a sheriff rushed into the room they’re gathered in. “There’s been another killing. A guest in his room at the Sapphire Lady.”

“Same ritual?” Morgan asks.

“No, his neck was broken and he was robbed of $50,000. The strange thing is, the killer is left nearly 20,000 behind with the body.”

Hotch picks up the phone, “Garcia, is there a casino in the neighborhood of Penrose and Morningside Avenue?”

“Uh… no casinos per se, but there’s a private gambling establishment right around the corner.”

“Is it legal?”

“Yeah, but it’s ultra-exclusive. They have a monthly high-stakes poker tournament, today being the day of the month coincidentally enough.”

“Or no coincidence at all.” Rossi says. “What’s the buy-in?”

“Yikeys, $50,000. But it’s a million-dollar guarantee if you win.”

Now that they had an idea of where the UnSub was going, they had to figure out a way to get into the establishment unnoticed. Hotch left to make some calls, but came back into the room an hour later looking defeated. “They don’t want to allocate emergency funds for the buy-in. I’m still working on it.”

“Well I can’t imagine why not.” Rossi shrugs. “We’re only asking for 50,000 bucks of taxpayer money so that FBI agents can play Texas Hold ‘Em.”

“Hey, what about you?” Emily nods.

“What about me, what?”

“You could stake us the buy-in.”

“Yeah, you’re a best-selling author.” Spencer adds.

“No.” Rossi shakes his head.

“Why not?”

“One, it’s against regulations, and I’d like to hold onto this job for a little while longer. And two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things, like single-malt scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork.”

“Poker chips are things.” Emily shrugs

“Just think of it as a new experience.” Juliette pipes up. “I mean, at your age, how often does that happen?”

“At my what?”

“Rossi, this may be our only chance to get this guy.” Emily interrupts.

“All right, fine.” Rossi sighs. “I’m a decent poker player, but I can’t promise that I can stay in the game long enough to…”

“You know what? I bet you’re a great poker play, but what if we sent in Reid?”

“Look, I know I’m not a genius like the boy wonder here, but poker is not blackjack. It’s about bluffing, reading human nature, head games. It’s not math.”

“That’s not entirely accurate…” Spencer starts, but Morgan interrupts him.

“What about you, Leroux? You any good at poker?”

“Well I’ve beat Dave here more times than I can count, but I’d still bet on the eidetic memory.” Juliette agrees.

“Okay, fine, I surrender.” Rossi says, avoiding any more embarrassment. “Just try not to lose all of my money.”

Spencer does a good job playing, but his mistake came when he reached to admire the UnSub’s lucky keychain. He signals for the team to move in as he’s getting kicked out, but by then they’re too late, they lost him.

However, while he was playing, Garcia figured out that the last victim had a business partner, Curtis Banks, who’s been down on his luck, and his photo matches what Spencer saw in the casino. He wasn’t at his house, as it was in foreclosure, but she also found that his wife’s staying with her sister not far from Atlantic City.

When the team finally reached the sister’s house, Curtis is already holding the two hostage. “Let me go in and talk to him, Aaron. I know how these guys think.” Rossi says, handing off his gun.

“All right.” Hotch nods. “JJ, see if you can get an angle on Banks.”

“I’ll go around the side.” Juliette says, rushing off as soon as the boss nods in approval.

When Juliette finally has an angle through the glass, Curtis is rambling. “I need some time, okay? J- Just give me a minute to think.”

Rossi nods, but Juliette can see Curtis glancing at the clock behind him. “It’s 7:59, that’s why he’s asking for more time.” She says into her earpiece.

“All right, move in.” Hotch orders, so Juliette opens the back door.

This seems to spook Curtis, because he lets go of the woman, pauses for a moment, then points his gun at Rossi. Juliette takes the shot, straight through his temple, and he drops to the floor. She immediately holsters her Glock, moving to escort to the sisters out of the house.

They finally flying back to Quantico later that evening, Spencer and Juliette engaged in another game of chess. Rossi sets glasses of whisky down in front of her and Hotch, taking a seat across from the boss. “That was a good shot, Jules.”

“No one calls me that anymore.” She sends him a look. “But I learned from the best.”

“You learned to shoot like that from _Dave_?” Hotch asks.

“No, I’m just making fun of him.” Juliette takes a sip of her drink. “I learned from my dad.”

Hotch nods, but she continues. “You know, I think my old boss might’ve had an aneurysm if he learned I was drinking on the job.”

“We’re not on the clock.” He shrugs. “I guess you could say I’m a cool boss.”

Juliette lets out something between a laugh and a scoff, turning back to that game and ignoring the looks from the rest of the team.

\---

The team works into the night, but eventually trickle out one-by-one. Morgan and Juliette leave at the same time, sharing an awkward elevator ride until he speaks up. “You know, I’ve never seen Hotch joke with an agent as new as you.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying I don’t see a ring on your finger, and I haven’t seen him smile like that in a long time.” 

As the elevator doors open, she turns to Morgan. “Tell Hotch to keep frowning, because I’m not interested.”

Juliette rushes away to her car with her hand on her chest, only letting tears streak down her face once she sees Morgan’s car drive away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how much I like this chapter, but it's borderline a filler. The song title is from a Taylor Swift song bc it fit with the case they worked!! I know there was a lot of case dialogue, and I promise there won't be this much in the future.  
> Also, please don't yell at me for writing Derek that way. He said some homophobic/problematic things in the show that I wanted Juliette to call out, but he will get better. Please let me know your thoughts!!


	3. burning flames or paradise

Juliette would like to think Morgan didn't mean harm by his ring comment, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt any less. Moments of sleep were far and few between that night, and she's already up and ready to go at 6 AM.

Technically they have the day off unless a case comes in, so she dresses in black leggings and a matching tank top, and sets off running. Juliette's townhouse is less than a mile from the big park in Quantico, the one where military brats play sports and government events are held, so she jogs there with the intention to run around the base.

After Juliette and Griffin graduated college, they spent their free time training for marathons, having completed dozens together throughout their marriage. The last race they did together was two years after she joined the FBI, in one sponsored by the bureau. Juliette never thought she would run another marathon, but it's been five years, and her therapist would say this is healthy.

So maybe running fifteen miles isn't what most people would do on their day off, but it's what Juliette had planned. After ten miles, she had made it back to the entrance of the park, checking her phone and responding to a text from her mother. While stopped, she doesn't expect to hear a familiar voice from behind. "I didn't know you're a runner."

She finds Hotch standing five feet away, just as sweaty as she is. "I didn't know you ran, either."

"I'm training for the FBI marathon, it's my first time." He nods. "What about you?"

"So am I, although I think this will be my thirtieth." Juliette starts, but she's cut off by their phones buzzing with a text from Garcia; they have a case.

Hotch sighs, looking up from his phone. "Well, good luck."

"You, too." Juliette says, thinking back to her conversation with Rossi. "I, uh- Let me know if you need any tips."

"Will do." Hotch nods, turning towards his car. "You know the parking lot's this way, right?"

"I ran here." She calls out, already jogging away.

\---

Hotch is the last to walk into the round table room, albeit confused how Juliette arrived before him, he nods to Garcia. "Let's get started."

"Ok, Atlanta field office has a serial on their hands. Two prostitutes stabbed and staged in the last two weeks." She starts, but Spencer cuts her off.

"Atlanta's crime rate has skyrocketed over the past few years, especially after the proliferation of solicited sex and drug use in the downtown area."

"Maybe this guy thinks he's cleaning up the city." JJ says.

"Means of disposal usually reflects how the person feels towards them." Juliette counters. "It looks like he didn't think poorly of his victims, he even kept them dressed."

"Whatever he's doing with them, we need to stop it." Hotch walks towards the door. "Wheels up in thirty."

Juliette follows the team out of the room, hoping to go over the case file at her desk before they leave. However, Rossi stops her in front of his office and motions for her to enter, which she does. Confusion marks Juliette's face until he closes the door. "I heard you snapped at Morgan."

"He snitched?" Juliette shakes her head. "Did he tell you what he told me?"

"Yes, he relayed the conversation to me."

"Did you tell him?"

"No, it's not my story to tell." Rossi sighs. "Did you consider being more friendly?"

"I am! I offered Hotch running advice this morning."

He raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Not like that, Dave. He found me on my run."

"You're still doing marathons?"

"I- I stopped for awhile. But I think I'm going to try one again." Juliette looks to the door. "We have a case."

"Alright." Rossi sighs. " _Ti amo_ , Juliette."

They've barley taken off when Garcia's face pops up on the screen. "I hate to be the messenger of sad things, but yet another body has been discovered by some joggers at yet another park. Her name's Rebecca Moore, and get this- a missing persons report was filed on her by a friend, Allyson Parker."

"Well, how long was she missing?" Morgan asks.

"36 hours."

"Prentiss, you and Leroux find out if Allyson has any insight on why Rebecca was targeted. Morgan and Reid, go to the disposal site. Dave, JJ, and I will set up at the field office." Hotch orders.

Juliette enjoys working with Emily. They have an unspoken understanding for politics and parts of the world that the government keeps classified. More importantly, Emily understands wanting to keep personal life separate from work, and knows to keep conversation light.

Finding Allyson wasn't hard, she's standing on the same sidewalk downtown where Rebecca was last seen. She's naturally apprehensive when the woman approach, but willing to open up when Juliette explains why they're there. "Did she have any regular customers?" Emily asks.

"We all do." Allyson responds.

"Rebecca had over $250 on her." Juliette says carefully. "What would that kind of money get a customer?"

"A lot."

"Like all night, or..."

"Nowadays, yeah."

Once Allyson's more relaxed, Juliette asks the harder questions. "We need to take you back to the last time you saw Rebecca. Where were you standing?"

Allyson steps back a few feet. "About here, facing the street."

"Great, now walk me through what you remember."

"A truck pulled up, he's one of my regulars. I was talking to him through the window when Rebecca pulled up in a silver Beemer."

"Did you recognize the car?" Emily asks.

"No, it must have been a new customer."

Juliette nods. "What did she do after that?"

"She looked back at me and started walking down the street. That's the last time I saw her." Allyson pauses. "Wait a second. There was an older gray van. I've seen it around here before, it was parked there a long time."

"A van? Where?"

Allyson points to the space next to the street, just down the block. "Right there."

"How long was it there?"

"A few hours, probably. Why?"

"It's a loading zone. Permit parking only." Juliette nods, knowing they got something useful.

\---

The case seems to be full of twists and turns, even after the team had given the profile a day later. Although they originally thought bruises on the victims were from some sort of bondage, they now believe it was from a wheelchair. Along with that, they had profiled two similar-minded men committing the crimes, although they've now concluded it's a male and his caregiver.

Through all of these developments, another victim had been found. This led to JJ leading a press conference with a local agent. After the conference, they're brainstorming in an empty room while a tip line is being sorted through. "Everything about this most recent murder is different. It was the most violent, yet the most remorseful." Emily sighs.

"All of the bodies were disposed of in a nurturing way, but you're right. She was wrapped in plastic, it's almost too neat." Spencer nods. "Maybe the caretaker is a woman. By nature, woman prefer cleaner disposal methods."

"I don't know, that terrain was something serious." Morgan shakes his head. "I mean, no offense ladies, but Reid and I hiked up that ridge, and there's no way a woman, physically fit or not, could carry dead weight all that way."

Juliette internally scoffs, but remains professional. "So there's a third person involved. That rarely works, they would need to trust each other completely."

"So what kind of relationship involves that dynamic?" Rossi shrugs.

"What if it's parents protecting a child?" Juliette asks, staring intently at the crime scene photos. "A parent would hold themselves accountable, that explains the guilt."

Morgan furrows his brows. "But what kind of sick family pulls this off?"

"One that's probably done it before."

With this new information, they ask Garcia to look for similar unsolved murders in the area. She calls back surprisingly fast, and Hotch puts her on speaker. "Ok, the only thing I can find that's remotely similar to this is from five years ago. A coed at Georgia State was stabbed and left in a park."

"Did she have bruises on her inner thigh?" Hotch asks.

The sound of Garcia's nails against her keyboard fill the room. "Uh, ME says... Yes, she did."

"All right, check student enrollment for that year for students with campus handicap permits."

"The parents would have covered it up, and they would've pulled their son out of school after the murder." Juliette adds.

"Here we go, Jeffrey Collins. He dropped out of school weeks after the murder and has lived with his parents ever since."

"What's his story?" Asks Morgan.

"Only child of Linda and Donald Collins. He was a local athlete who become paralyzed in a car accident when he was fifteen. It says here the mother was driving, but the injuries weren't consistent with being behind the wheel." Garcia pauses. "But the father's were. Broken ribs, ruptured spleen, concussion. He's obviously the one who hit the steering wheel."

Emily nods. "Let me guess, the father was drunk."

"Yeah, twice the legal limit."

"Sounds like they switched places and she covered for him."

"But helping your husband avoid a DUI is far different from helping your son dispose of bodies." JJ counters.

"Not necessarily, the mother fixes things. She could have manipulated the husband into making up for his failure." Spencer shrugs.

"Garcia, do you have an address?" Hotch asks.

"Sending it to you now."

They're on their way to the Collins' house when they receive a call that their car had just crashed at the same spot of the accident that paralyzed their son, so the team turns around and heads to the scene. There, they find Donald having committed suicide, and a note confessing to the four murders.

With the profile, it's obvious he didn't actually kill the women, so they jump back in the SUVs and race to the Collins'. When Morgan breaks down the door yelling "FBI," Linda Collins is holding a gun to another woman's head.

"Get the hell out of my house!" She screams.

"Listen, Mrs. Collins, we need you to put down your weapon." JJ orders.

"Get my dad. He'll tell you she's crazy." Jeffrey says from the side of the room.

"Your father was killed in a car accident." Spencer states.

Jeffrey seems genuinely surprised. "What?"

"Did he tell you what he did?" Linda hisses, her grips on the gun tightening. "He killed all those girls, that sick son of a bitch."

"Linda, this is over. Jeffrey is coming with us." JJ orders again. "You need to let him take responsibility. We know that Jeffrey hurt those girls."

"You people. You think you can come in here just to take my son and lock him up like some animal." Linda yells, turning to her son. "I always told you mommy would take care of everything."

When Linda lets go of the woman and points the gun at Jeffrey, Juliette and Hotch don't hesitate to each take a shot at her torso. While JJ consoles the woman, Juliette moves to handcuff Jeffrey.

They fly back overnight, given the day off to rest unless there's an emergency. Juliette's mind is racing the entire drive home, thinking about everything but the case. As much as she hates to say it, this is probably the best team she's worked on. She enjoys working with Rossi and the other women seem sweet. She's secretly intrigued by Hotch, with his familiar personality and work ethic.

Once she's home, Juliette misses Griff. She misses the way he would engulf her in his arms after every case, his fingers methodically running through her silky hair and leaving tingles in their wake. How he always smelled of jasmine, which would come to be her favorite scent. He would listen to everything she held in while she was away and cook her favorite meal after cases involving the deaths of police officers.

Her life's become a series of what-ifs, what if Griff was here right now? What if she had never joined the FBI? Juliette knows it's not productive, but no amount of bureau therapy can stop her mind from playing through them.

She also knows that even though the sun hasn't risen yet, she's not getting any sleep today. So she changes into the same leggings and tank top, and leaves for a run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the Taylor Swift song Style because this case reminded me of the Haylor car crash theory ahaha. Sorry there's so much case dialogue, the next chapter will make up for it!!


	4. we don't have to dance

Juliette doesn’t hate back-to-back cases as much as other agents, but two cases over two weeks without a chance to even visit her home was draining. Hotch managed to convince Strauss they’re not to be called in that day unless there’s a serial killer in the White House, so Juliette has a day alone in her exceptionally quiet townhouse.

She _despises_ the silence. The whirring of her AC is suffocating, reminding her that she’ll never hear Griff whistling a Beatles song again. Then the microwave’s buzzing taunts Juliette, telling her she’ll never taste his homemade meals again. Normally, alcohol and Rush blasting through a speaker could drown out the silence enough, but today she tries something healthier.

Juliette dons black shorts and a matching sports bra, jogging against the morning breeze towards the park with plans to race around the base until the sun sets. Having lived in cities for so much of her life, she relishes in the swaying trees and rustling bushes around her. She’s so focused on the beauty of nature, she doesn’t notice Hotch walking towards her from the parking lot.

To Aaron Hotchner, Juliette is an enigma. He can’t figure out why she’s so distant from the team, although he’s considered he might be projecting. Either way, he’s become unreasonably determined to encourage her out of her shell. So, when he sees Juliette entering the park at the same time, he doesn’t hesitate to start his run on the same path.

At first, they simply lock eyes. Exchanging courteous smiles, Juliette can tell from his open body language that she won’t be completing her run alone. She slows down, allowing him to jog up next to her and run together. “Mind if I join you?” Hotch asks, a smile ghosting his lips. “Maybe get some of those tips.”

“Of course.” Juliette nods, masking her disappointment. She should’ve gone somewhere else if she wanted to be alone, anyways.

The first few minutes of their run are done in silence, only broken by Juliette telling her boss to fix his posture or bend his knees more. Eventually, Hotch feels dangerously comfortable in her presence, and hesitantly points to her necklace. “Are those your wedding rings?”

Juliette clenches her jaw, but nods. “Both of ours, yes.”

“I’m sorry.” Hotch murmurs, suddenly aware he may have overstepped.

“I’m sorry about your wife.” She replies, hoping to push the awkward silence onto him.

Hotch furrows his brow. “How’d you profile that?”

“I didn’t.” She answers, although she could've. When she said yes, Hotch’s expression wasn’t that of pity, but empathy. The kind of empathy you can only know from experience. “Strauss told me.”

“I see.” He exhales. “This job… takes a lot from you.”

“That it does.” Juliette nods in agreement, ignoring Hotch’s confusion.

“Speaking of which,” He adds. “I thought I told everyone to get some rest today.”

Juliette sighs, debating how much she wants to reveal to him. She ultimately sticks with the truth, surprising even herself. “The house… it's too quiet.”

She lets her words linger in the air for a moment, then speaks again. “What about you, don’t you have a kid?”

“I do, Jack. He’s in Disney with Jessica, Haley’s sister.”

Juliette looks up to him, displaying the first genuine smile Hotch’s seen grace her face. “That’s amazing. I bet he’s having the time of his life.”

Kids are Juliette’s weak spot, they always have been. She’s not trying to hide it, although she would in a work setting, she can’t help but smile at the idea of a tiny Hotch. And he can see this, so he takes his time explaining Jack’s obsession with Star Wars and how he scored a goal at his most recent soccer game.

Three miles into the run, Juliette begins to pick up her pace. “Wait, what are you doing?” Hotch calls out.

“That was just a warm-up.” She responds, looking over her shoulder to see him struggling to keep up.

They end up alternating speeds every other mile, Juliette explaining her pre-marathon schedule while Hotch relays more Jack stories. Back in the parking lot, parting ways is just as awkward as Juliette expected. “We should do this again.” Hotch says.

“Alright.” She nods, slowly backing away. “See you tomorrow.”

They exchange a wave, allowing Juliette to jog away. Her mind’s whirling through an unreasonable amount of thoughts on her journey home, and she’s unsure of how to compartmentalize. She can’t ignore the way she feels around Hotch, and as much as she wants to say they’re just coworkers, maybe becoming friends, she can’t help but feel like she’s cheating on Griffin.

All she wants is to make Griff proud, to prove that he didn’t die for her to leave the FBI in grief, but those feelings build up and suddenly she can’t sort through all of them. As soon as Juliette enters her house, she breaks.

The kind of break that leaves her crying hysterically on the floor of her apartment, unable to lock the front door behind her. The kind of break that forces her to call out for Griffen, only to have a jolting panic attack all alone.

She eventually stumbles to her kitchen and whimpers as rum burns her throat, salty from tears. Juliette’s racing heart slows and tightening chest loosens as intoxication washes over her like a storm, dropping her down to the floor. Numb to the pain tearing out of the metaphorical box she buried it in, she allows silence to cover the room like an itchy blanket.

She’s not sure when she falls asleep, but when she wakes to her phone ringing, the sun has set. Garcia calls with news of a boy escaping captivity in Arizona, as well as a child abduction not far from there, and tells her to be on the jet in an hour.

Juliette takes the fastest shower of her life, ignoring how the room’s still spinning from the alcohol. She dresses in her typical work pants, exchanging her blazer for a knit sweater. It’s more than professional for the BAU, albeit cutting it close by Juliette’s standards, but she’s choosing comfort for the day. She chugs a bottle of water and thanks her past self for preparing a new go bag before her run, just in case there was actually a serial killer in the White House.

She runs a brush through her hair and inhales a protein bar on the drive, only stopping to catch her breath once she arrives at the tarmac five minutes early. Placing her hand on the rings, Juliette reminds herself why she does this, moving on from a moment of weakness.

She boards the jet with the rest of the team, ignoring concerned looks from Hotch and Rossi, and Morgan biting back his snarky comments. Garcia’s face pops up on the jet screens, startling the half-asleep agents. “Hello hello! Apologies for the late-night call, but this boy was found two hours ago in the middle of nowhere.”

Photos of an adolescent boy are found in their case files while she continues. “Technically he was found outside of Crockett, Arizona. My point is, he has clearly been to super hell and escaped some sort of captivity.”

“How do we know he wasn’t just dropped off there?” Emily asks.

“Well, he has fresh cuts on the bottom of his feet from the local cactus field, and those are far away from any roads. And his skin is rubbed raw around his ankles from chains.”

“Are there any missing children in the area?” JJ asks next.

“Not until now.” Garcia answers. “Earlier tonight, another boy was reported missing in Flagstaff.” 

“That’s not far.” Morgan says. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Technically it could, but Arizona has the lowest addiction rate in the country, so the chances of these cases not being related are ridiculously slim.” Spencer adds.

“Yeah, that’s why child abduction rapid deployment team will meet you on the ground.” Garcia agrees. “The Flagstaff abduction is Billy Henderson, 13. His parents say he was coming back from a friend’s house after dinner. He never made it home.”

“Right now, our best chance of finding Billy Henderson is to figure out what the first victim knows.” Hotch nods. “Morgan, you and JJ go to the hospital, see if you can get through to him. The rest of us will set up at the police station.”

As the jet takes off, Juliette settles into the couch with a cup of coffee, hoping she will see something in the victim photos. This was intended to be alone time, but Rossi expresses he has other ideas when he sits in a chair across from her. “How are you?” He asks, forcing Juliette to look up.

“I’m alright.” She responds, her unwavering voice not matching her run-down appearance.

“Then why do you look like me when I woke up married in Vegas?”

Juliette looks around the jet, thankful that everyone’s lost in their own worlds. “I… had a rough day.” She says in a hushed tone. “I’m better now, really.”

Rossi sighs, studying her for any kind of lie. Finally, he stands up. “ _Ti amo, cara mia._ You know you can always call me.”

She nods, turning back to distract herself with the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but I really like the way it ended. The title is from the Andy Black song that my middle school self loved to scream along to. I forgot to mention this in the last chapter, but I changed the triathlon to a marathon because I know more about them ahaha.


	5. low moon don the yellow road

Back from Arizona and rested from a full night of sleep in her own bed, Juliette walks into the bullpen with a pep in her step. She sits at her desk across from Spencer’s, softening her gaze as he recites his favorite facts from an article he read on biomedical statistics in the Metro DC area.

Juliette and Spencer have come to form an unique relationship, long over the intimidation of her personality. She enjoys learning and occasionally including her own facts, while Spencer is overjoyed that someone’s interested in what he knows.

They would’ve spent all day talking and filling out reports together, but unfortunately Juliette’s mood is dampened by Hotch, accompanied by Strauss, ordering the team to the round table. He stands in the front of the room, prepared to present the case in place of Garcia. “Somerville Military Academy in Oceanside, Florida. Five boys were found hanging this morning. The bodies are at the medical examiner’s now.”

“There’s no photos?” Morgan questions, alluding to the lack of images on the screen

“School personnel thought they may still be alive, so they cut them out of the trees.” Strauss adds.

“So we’re walking into a contaminated crime scene. They don’t have anything solid?”

“‘We’re sorry’ was carved in a tree branch nearby.”

“This happened on campus?” Juliette asks.

“No, in the woods about an hour away. They were out there six days, as an outward bound mission for upperclassmen.”

“Do we know what drove them to suicide?” JJ asks next.

“A freshman cadet, Bailey Shelton, hung himself two weeks ago in his room.” Hotch answers. “There’s something else. Six kids went on the trip, only five were found.”

“School officials confirm that Josh Redding is still missing.” Strauss adds. “And the campus is completely off the grid. No internet.”

“I can help with that.” Garcia pipes up.

“Which is why you’re coming with us.” Hotch nods.

“So am I.” Strauss says, to the dismay of the agents.

Rossi furrows his brow. “Isn’t Somerville the director’s alma mater?”

“Yes. The academy has enjoyed a spotless reputation, so the hope is to keep the investigation in-house.”

With that, the team’s excused to prepare for wheels up in 30. Along with not wanting to be in Strauss’ presence longer than necessary, Juliette's still not thrilled to be working a case this involved with higher-ups.

The jet ride is as tension-filled as it can get, Spencer and Juliette engaged in a chess game while the team discusses the history of the school. “The Somerville Academy was founded during World War II. Their socioeconomic breakdown is all over the map, along with ages. Students are twelve to eighteen years old, on the same campus, in the same dorms.” Spencer recites.

“Ron Massey has been superintendent for 30 years.” Strauss adds. “He’s an alum, as is the majority of the staff there. Lieutenant Tawes has been his second in command his entire career.”

“Bailey Shelton was only thirteen years old, one of the youngest students there. His death is probably key to the others.” Rossi says, and no one can disagree.

On the ground, Strauss and Massey greet each other before turning to the agents. “This is the team I spoke with you about.” She motions to Hotch, who introduces everyone else.

“Sir, shouldn’t your flag be at half-mast?” Morgan asks, referencing the large flagpole they’re standing under.

“I haven't told the boys yet.” Massey almost shrugs, as if his posture hadn’t been forcibly straightened by the US military.

“Do they know who we are?” Hotch questions.

“I’ll tell them when the time is right.” He says, oblivious to the profiler’s glancing to each other. “I’ve called all of the parents, they’re driving from up and down the east coast. In fact, Josh Redding’s have just arrived.”

Hotch gives orders to each agent, leaving himself to keep watch over Massey.

\---

A day later, and the details of the investigation continue to become more and more suspicious. Not only were four of the boy’s murders staged, but Bailey Shelton’s father, Chris Shelton, was found dead in a trap set by Josh Redding. Along with that, Massey’s becoming increasingly suspicious with his nepotism, and Strauss seems to dislike the field as much as Garcia.

Speaking of which, Juliette and Spencer are in the abandoned library with the technical analyst, digging up dirt on every member of the establishment. They had figured out the academy’s point system for rewarding the students favored who Massey liked the greatest, and most recently discovered the kids with the most disciplinary issues were all given laundry duty. “Their dorm was the farthest point from the laundry room. Why are they so isolated?” Spencer thinks out loud.

“The ME said Bailey had blisters and burns, his fingertips were raw, and his trachea had internal scarring.” Juliette finally puts it all together. “That could all be damage done inside of an industrial-sized dryer.”

Spencer pulls out Bailey’s journal, flipping through it as if he doesn’t have it memorized. “Bailey writes about how each of these boys bullied him. His father must have read it and wanted revenge.”

“Does it mention Josh?” Juliette asks.

“Not at all.”

“Then why would Chris Shelton go after him?” She thinks out loud. “What if Massey lied to Chris and set Josh up?”

Spencer nods, going along with the theory. “He could’ve convinced Chris that Josh was responsible for Bailey’s suicide. That still doesn’t explain how he found the secluded woods.”

“Wait, where’s Mr. Shelton’s phone?” Juliette asks, nodding to Garcia when she hands it to her. “There’s a text from one unknown… latitude and longitude.”

“Right where the boys were camping.” Spencer agrees when he sees the coordinates.

The trio relay this information to the rest of the team, and by the end, Hotch is fuming. “Massey’s withheld information every step of the way. He’s not to be trusted.”

They come to the conclusion that while Tawes has a massive head start as apart of his ‘search party,’ the team can profile where Josh would be most likely to hide based on the closest roads. They split up into groups of two, combing the woods until Morgan and JJ let them know through walkie-talkies that Tawes is dead and they found Josh, safe.

During the search, Juliette and Hotch had stayed behind with Strauss, compiling enough evidence to arrest Massey once Josh was found. While he reunites with his family, the two enter the office of Colonel Massey. “Ron Massey, you’re under arrest.” Juliette says as Hotch handcuffs him.

“I’ve done nothing wrong.” He says, trying to squirm out of Hotch’s grip.

“You texted Chris Shelton the coordinates of the campsite. That makes you an accessory to murder.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you had no power or control over Josh, and you couldn’t handle that. Problem is, he wasn’t going to go away quietly. He wanted you to pay for all those years of abuse.”

“No one will believe Josh, he’s a troubled boy.”

Hotch pats his shoulder as they put him in the police car. “He’s a grown man, Colonel. You should be proud.”

They fly back overnight, Juliette curled up on the couch with a book, ignoring whatever Strauss, Morgan, and Hotch were whispering about. As sun becomes visible on the horizon and the plane begins its descent, Hotch moves to a seat across from Juliette. “I’ve arranged for everyone to have the day off.” He says, barely looking up from his file.

“Does that include yourself?” Juliette asks, only to receive radio silence from Hotch. “I was going to train after lunch, if you’re interested.”

Hotch’s lips twitch as he nods. “I think I can make time for that.”

Juliette makes a beeline for her apartment as soon as they land, showering off the woods and toxic masculinity. She debates wearing something more work-appropriate to the run, but Hotch’s already seen what she normally wears, as well as the rings, so it doesn’t make much of a difference anymore.

She jogs up to the entrance as Hotch is parking, and for the first time, they start their run together. “Is everything alright with Strauss?” Juliette asks. “She seemed off on the ride back.”

“She’ll be fine.” Hotch sighs, not knowing how much he should share. “How did you really get her to kiss your ass? I understand politics as well as the next person at the bureau, and she’s made my life a living hell.”

Juliette contemplates how much she wants to tell him, settling for an abridged version of the truth. “Before I transferred to my last unit, I worked under Strauss. Griff, he- he was getting some threats. I told her I wanted to take some time off to stay with him, make sure he was safe, she told me I was being paranoid. That she would be looking for my replacement if I didn’t join the team on the next case.”

She pauses, focused on the road in front of her instead of the regret of ever opening her mouth. “I chose my job over my husband, and I’ll never forgive myself for it. I guess Strauss actually has a conscience, because I don’t think she’s forgiven herself either.”

“I understand completely.” Hotch exhales. “But you can’t change the past.”

“You can’t change the past.” Juliette nods.

As soon as their conversation stalls, an unspoken agreement seems to form between the two. They know that they can safely confide in each other, because they’ve shared too much about themselves to run their mouths, not like they would in the first place.

Any tension left in their relationship dissipates, leaving two people who have too much on their minds not to share. “Strauss is entering a program for alcohol abuse.” Hotch says, the stress he usually wears on his face now audible in his voice. “I’m stepping up to do part of her job until she returns.”

Juliette ignores her burning questions about Strauss, instead feeling for the man who barely has time outside of work as it is. “Let me help with the paperwork.”

Hotch glances to her, shaking his head. “I can’t ask you to do that, you have enough case reports already.”

“You’re not asking me, I’m asking you for an excuse to stay at the office.” She says, a hint of desperation in her voice that tells Hotch everything he needs to know.

“If you insist.” He sighs. “It would help me a lot. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Juliette grins. “You can tell me about Jack’s last soccer game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title's from the Bon Iver song 715 Creeks, it seems like a great metaphor for the relationship Aaron and Juliette are forming. 
> 
> Please check out my tumblr (prentiss-es) for extras and updates!!


	6. who fights for you?

Two weeks pass without a case, and unlike the rest of the team, Hotch and Juliette aren’t bored at the office. Much to the amusement of the others, Juliette spends most of her day filling out paperwork from Hotch’s office couch. They explain it off as easier if Juliette has a question about what to write, but the team knows something’s up when JJ finds the pair sharing a muffin one morning, and Emily spots them running together at the park.

Their morning runs are a daily occurrence without cases, and both of them have come to find their conversations therapeutic. They bond over working in the court system, albeit on opposite sides, and share stories of high-profile cases they’ve helped to solve.

Dancing around the topic of their spouses is difficult, especially when they’re telling a story and suddenly realize how involved their partner was to it, but neither of them are ready to share that part of their lives.

Today starts like any other, running one lap around the base as the sun rises before Hotch leaves to take Jack to school and Juliette to pick up coffee from her favorite spot. She started picking up a black coffee for Hotch after she noticed him eyeing her’s one morning, it’s been a routine ever since.

She’s filling out a transfer form for another team while Hotch reviews potential cases when his phone rings. Normally she would ignore his calls, but Morgan was in Chicago visiting his sister after a car accident, and she wants to know how he’s doing. The conversation started like any other, but catches Juliette’s attention when Hotch says, “Falsely. You deduced he’d never met her.”

Morgan speaks for another minute, and they hang up after Hotch says, “We’re on our way.”

He ignores Juliette’s concerned expression, instead calling another number. “Gather the team at the round table.”

At the table, Garcia’s set Morgan up on a video call while Hotch fills in the team on the situation. He explains the case they worked a year prior to Emily and Juliette, and how Morgan told his family the UnSub killed his cousin when he knew he didn’t. Now Morgan has reason to believe she’s alive, and since they don’t have any urgent cases, the team’s going to help.

When Morgan joins the call, JJ’s the first one to speak. “So your cousin fled Chicago eight years ago because a coworker was stalking her?”

“Yeah, a guy named John Hitchens.” He nods. “Cindi and Yvonne came to me and asked if they should be worried. Her email and phone logs showed classic stalker behavior.”

“Multiple messages every hour, gifts he sent which she later returned. That would enrage a stalker. But until they become violent, they’re smart enough to skirt the law.” Spencer adds, obviously familer with her case.

“Human resources at the investment bank wouldn’t do anything, and Chicago PD couldn’t, so Yvonne and I convinced Cindi to move.”

He exhales. “She contacted us from Charleston on her way to Savannah, and then she was gone. Hitchens blew his brains out two weeks later in Chicago, and that was good enough for local PD to conclude that he’d killed her. Expect for one major detail, we never found the body. If his endgame was suicide, he wouldn’t have been organized enough to dispose of the body that permanently. That’s why I never stopped looking. I just didn’t think that she would surface right back here in Chicago.”

“We need to reopen both cases, Cindi’s disappearance and Hitchens’ suicide. The discrepancies in each’s behavior would explain her current behavior.” Hotch concludes. “Wheels up in 20.”

The jet ride is awkward, more for Juliette than anyone else. She’s sitting next to Hotch and across from Rossi, and she feels out of place not being closer with the team members her age. Her gut twists when their elbows accidentally touch, and she feels the need to kick Rossi when he raises his eyebrows after Hotch sets a coffee down in front of her, along with his own.

Thankfully, that tension disappears as they enter Chicago PD, officially launching into work mode. “Detective Palmer, what do you have?” Hotch asks, shaking hands with the detective.

“I wish we had more to give you. You know how missing persons cases are.” He motions to boxes filled with various items, including photographs. “These were found in Hitchens’ apartment after the suicide. Some were blown up from the original film stock. The gun he used to kill himself was traced to this dealer.”

The detective hands Hotch a thin file. “Local guy, completely by the book, no record.”

“The .44 was the only gun in Hitchens’ possession, that’s a big gun to kill yourself with.” The boss says. “We should talk to the dealer.”

The team regroups a few hours later, each finding new information that could lead them to Cindi. Emily and Spencer had found that the gun Hitchens’ used to kill himself was bought by a man named Malcolm Ford, and after learning who he is, they had new theories. “So Cindi had two stalkers?” Morgan asks.

Hotch shakes his head. “No, only one. Ford fits the profile better than Hitchens. He had multiple assault and harassment charges, all filed by ex-girlfriends and random women he met.”

“So Ford killed Hitchens and then set him up.” Juliette nods. “Behaviorally, it would make sense. If Ford was stalking your cousin, he would have seen Hitchens as competition, so he kills him and plants the photos to throw off your investigation.”

“Garcia just sent us his address.” Hotch says, cuing the team to get ready.

After clearing the house, they find that Malcolm is in the wind, but mounds of evidence against him. There’s evidence of a woman living in the house, as wells as various S&M ‘toys’ and what can only be described as a half-burned slave contract.

They give the profile to the local police, and are working with Garcia to search chat rooms when she gets a hit. A 911 call from a grocery store reports a couple matching their description shoplifting, and soon the team’s racing there.

At the grocery store, they find Malcolm, but an empty car and no Cindi. Morgan and Rossi process the scene while the rest of the team accompanies Malcolm to the station. He taunts them by not asking for a lawyer, instead forcing Emily and JJ to strategically question him.

Malcolm’s a piece of work, pushing every gross button in Juliette’s book, but giving them no clues as to where Cindi is. When Morgan arrives to the station, he’s more level-headed. “Let me go in there.” He says to Hotch. “I can get in his head.”

“The way he got into yours?”

“Look, I know I have no right to ask, but please trust me on this. I can break him.”

Hotch barely nods before Morgan’s rushing into the room, pulling out a cup a noodles from behind his back. “You know what this is?”

He ignores Malcolm’s questions about the time, instead continuing a tangent. “When I was growing up, my dad worked midnights. My mom worked pretty late, too, so me and my sisters. had a lot of dinners at Cindi and my aunt’s house. It was fun, because you get to eat stuff you dont always get to eat at home. Stuff like this.”

He slams to cup onto the table. “So when Cindi stole this, it was no accident, Malcolm. She was sending me a message.”

“A message?” Malcolm asks, finally acknowledging Morgan.

“For eight years you beat her down to where she could barely look up. But when my sister saw her at that intersection, Cindi knew.” Morgan’s voice breaks. “She knew I would come for her. She was letting know that she’s still in there, that she’s alive, and she’s waiting.”

“You don’t know what she became. You don’t know the love she had for me.”

“Had?” He slams his hands down on the table. “What did you do to her?”

On the other side of the glass, the rest of the team was learning the Cindi was, in fact, not dead. Hotch bursts into the interrogation room, “Morgan, out.”

“…and we will find her!” He yells as Hotch drags him out. Now in the center of the station, Morgan’s fuming. “I was in control. I wasn’t going to hurt him.”

Hotch exhales. “Someone’s retained a lawyer on Malcolm’s behalf.”

“He didn’t invoke.” He says, confused.

“I did.” A woman says from the other side of the room, standing next to who the team can only assume is a lawyer.

“Cindi… Oh, my God.” Morgan starts towards her, but the lawyer holds up his hand.

“Stop. You’re not to speak to her or Malcolm Ford without me present.”

“What the hell is this?” He starts again.

“You’re holding my client of suspicion of kidnapping. As you can see, the victim’s alive and well.”

“Kept against her will.” Morgan rebuttals, but Cindi steps up.

“No. He’s my husband, now drop the charges.”

“Cindi, why are you doing this?”

“Because I love him.”

They have no choice but to let Malcolm go, he even had proof that his gun was stolen by Hitchens. After a tearful goodbye to her mom, Cindi leaves in a car with him.

Morgan’s baffled, and after being told to stay on the sidelines by Hotch, he’s pouting on a desk in the station. Juliette debates even talking to him, she’s only known him a few months, but remembering the way he spoke about his pops, she decides to try.

Walking out of the conference room towards him, Morgan all but rolls his eyes. “Are you here to rip into me as well? Penelope already did that.”

“I actually came here to offer sympathy, but I can think of a different speech if that’s what you want.” She sighs, unable to control her sarcasm.

Morgan moves over on the desk, leaving her a place to sit beside him. “Let’s hear what you got.”

Juliette instinctively places her hand on her chest, suddenly remembering why she didn’t want to do this. “I heard the way you talked about your pops. My _père_ , my dad, was on the Metro DC police force.”

“He had _thick_ French accent, you could barely understand his english.” She smiles, memories from her childhood suddenly playing in her head like a movie. “He was a beat cop for most of his career. When I was thirteen… he was shot responding to a domestic dispute.”

She ignores Morgan now looking up to her, instead fidgeting with the rings through her shirt. “Anyways, that’s not just me sharing my sob story for the sake of it. He died protecting a little girl, and that’s the only reason I could come up with for why Cindi would still go with Malcolm.”

Juliette can see the team pretending not to watch the two through the conference room window, but turns to see Morgan’s wheels turning. “You think they could have a kid, to keep her in line.”

“We still have to prove it, but yeah.”

And they do prove it. Garcia finds that not only was their lawyer also a friend of Malcolm’s, but has a mail-order bride from Russia who’s family hasn’t heard from her in years. So they sit the lawyer down, and he gives up the location of the children as soon as they bring up the company.

It’s a cabin almost an hour outside of the city, filled with over a dozen children all taken care of by one couple. While Malcolm, Cindi, and their kid are not in the house, Juliette and Morgan find them running through the woods behind the cabin. Morgan tackles Malcolm as Juliette moves Cindi and the child out of the way, turning them around so that don’t see the altercation.

Once Malcolm is in handcuffs, they switch places and Juliette leads the man twice her size to a police car. As she’s walking away, a smile graces her face when she hears, “Anthony, this is your Uncle Derek. He’s come a long way to meet you…”

\---

The team, excluding Morgan, who chose to stay with Cindi for a few days, flies back that evening. Juliette feels lighter on the way back, although it could be the relief of finding Cindi alive. She sits across from Spencer, engrossed in a chess game until he’s too tired to keep his eyes open.

After he moves to the couch, Hotch slips into the seat in front of her. “Still up for a run in the morning?”

“You know it.” She feels a smile twitching at her lips. “Are you taking Jack to school?”

“No, he’s going to stay at Jessica’s for the night.” This time, he almost smiles. “Plus, I know how much you like to sleep in.”

Juliette exhales, faking annoyance before turning her attention to the window. Looking out at the sky, she feels… domestic. Then realizations hit, memories of how _domestic_ her and Griff were before it was all snatched away.

She feels as though Griff and Aaron are the angel and devil on her shoulders, yelling at her. One saying it’s been _five years_ and she need to _move on_ , the other asking how she can move on from the love of her life, how can she risk another love being ripped away?

Juliette doesn't want to think she chose Aaron when she meets him at the park the next morning, they’re _just friends_ training for a marathon together. So they start their typical route, enjoying the sounds of nature on a warm July morning. Hotch is the first to break the silence, and Juliette can tell he’s been wanting to for awhile. “What did you say to Morgan yesterday?”

“I told him about my father.” She says, knowing it barley answers the question.

“Would you want to tell me about him?” Hotch pries in the most careful way possible.

Juliette’s quiet for a moment. “I would, just not today.”

So their run continues as normal, until they’re back in the parking lot. “Well, you know you shouldn’t train a week before the race… so I guess this is it.” Juliette says, surprised at how disappointed she feels.

Hotch seems to feel the same, because he attempts to lighten the mood. “Does that mean I don’t get anymore of those coffees?”

She makes a big deal of rolling her eyes, but shakes her head. “No, you actually need to load up on carbs before the run, so I’ll even bring you a muffin with it.”

Even when Hotch denies needing a muffin, Juliette jogs away, insisting she’ll beat him to the office with one.

Unlike Juliette, Aaron knows where his feeling are about her, he’s head over heels. It may have only been three years since Haley’s death, but their marriage was over long before that.

And even though he’s a profiler, he can’t figure out Juliette’s feelings about him. It’s obvious she’s not over Griffin, and he’s reminded of that every time he watches her place her palm to her chest. On the other hand, she’s different with him than any of the other agents. She continues to go on runs with him and she brings him coffee when he’s meant to be the stern boss.

Does she really believe they’re just friends, or does she want something more as well? Unfortunately for him, he can’t know until Juliette figures that out herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstory!!
> 
> please let me know what you think, your feedback means so much <3


	7. only in utter solitude

In the days leading up to the run, Juliette and Hotch can only hope that a case doesn’t put their training to waste. Hotch seems more anxious of this possibility, but Juliette can’t bring herself to regale stories of the marathons Griffin had to run alone because she had to work. 

She can, however, do anything else to calm his nerves. So eating muffins in Hotch’s office before the rest of the team arrives becomes a daily occurrence, along with their never-ending stack of paperwork. How Strauss managed to fill all of it out alone is beyond them.

Unfortunately, two days before the marathon, Garcia interrupts their breakfast with a possible case. After they both review the file, to ensure it’s actually important, she rounds up the team to present.

“We have a killing in Enid, Oklahoma, and not the capital punishment one you’re thinking of. I’m talking about a woman named Cara Smith, who was murdered in her apartment minutes after the execution of Rodney Garrett. Neighbors saw her front door open and discovered the body.” She starts, presenting photos of the woman on the screen. “Look familer?”

“Young, pretty, short blonde hair, and stabbed directly thought the heart.” Juliette says, disdain evident in her voice.

“That’s the exact way Garrett killed his victims.” Emily looks up from her file. “Are we looking at a copycat? Or someone creating doubt the right person was executed?”

“In Garrett’s case there was no doubt. His guilt was the slam dunk of all slam dunks.” Rossi replies. “Prints, DNA, a confession, he even led police to where he buried who of his victims.”

“Garrett killed 25 women before he was caught. If this UnSub is a copycat, the body count’s just started, which is why we can’t waste time. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says, leaving the room.

The jet is filled with disappointment, everyone can feel it. Juliette and Hotch over their marathon, while the other woman had their ladies night out squashed by a lack of babysitters for Henry.

But they can only pout for so long, because soon Garcia’s on the screen relaying more information. “I just got the transcript of Rodney Garrett’s last words hot off the press, and gold star to the first person who can identify the source of this. ‘She comes like the fullest moon on a happy night, taper of waist…’”

Spencer goes to speak, but Juliette beats him to it. “‘With the shape of magic might.’ It’s from The Thousand and One Nights.”

The team looks surprised, but Rossi only furrows his brow. “Garrett was a sixth grade dropout, an unlikely guy to be quoting from a Harvard Classic.”

“It makes sense, though. The book is about how Scheherazade regaled the king with stories until he fell in love and decided not to execute her.”

“Not a strategy likely to work with the Oklahoma Department of Corrections.” Rossi quips.

“Another body’s been found half a mile from the first victim, MO’s the same.” Garcia interrupts, her voice wavering.

“Prentiss, you and JJ talk to Garrett’s widow. Leroux and Reid go to the latest crime scene. Morgan, Dave and I’ll go to the prison.” Hotch orders, signaling the group to disperse.

Juliette’s sat in her usual spot with Hotch and Rossi, reading a book once she’s practically memorized the case file. When he’s done with his review, Hotch looks up to Juliette. “How’d you know that line from the book?”

Juliette meets his gaze, smiling softly. “My mother’s obsessed with classic literature, she used to read them to me as I fell asleep.”

“You’re mom read The Thousand and One Nights as a bedtime story?” He asks, almost laughing.

“In the original Arabic.” Juliette shrugs. “But this is the same woman who’s been teaching me chess since I could speak.”

“Dr. Leroux almost become the fourth Mrs. Rossi.” Rossi adds, earning a kick from Juliette.

“You can dream.” Their bickering earns a smile from Hotch, one that warms Juliette’s heart an unsettling amount.

In the car, Juliette glances to Spencer at a red light. “Sorry if I stole your thunder with the whole book thing. You probably know a lot more about it than me.”

As if on cue, Spencer starts on the way he would’ve translated it compared to Garrett’s version. And Juliette listens, the car ride filled with information she may or may not already know, but she knows better than to interrupt him.

She feels a sense of protectiveness over Spencer, knowing how the team can take his mind for granted or disregard things he’s passionate about. While she knows she can’t change what other’s do, she can be the person he comes to when he wants to share, or the person he confides in.

And whether or not he realizes it, Spencer goes to Juliette for these things. He mentions how his headaches have gone away after a consultation with a geneticist through letters, and how their conversation has moved from his health to their collective knowledge.

Their friendship isn’t one-sided, though. Juliette’s made mention of how she was married and the events surrounding Griffin’s death after Spencer brought up stalkers, and even though it was unspoken, Spencer promised to take the information to his grave.

The crime scene uncovered useful information, but the drive to the precinct is instead spent talking about how Spencer wants to offer to babysit for the other women, and working through any problems that might arise during his first time taking care of a child.

\---

One all-nighter later, and they weren’t much closer to finding the UnSub. He had been killing every six hours until now, leaving the team stalled in a conference room. Spencer’s napping on a bench, while Juliette and Emily are side-by side nursing cups of coffee. “Why would he abduct Emily Sisk, bring her somewhere else, then go all the way back to her apartment to dump her body? That’s incredibly risky, even for him.” Juliette thinks out loud, hoping something she says resonates with someone.

Spencer stands up from the bench, apparently never having fallen asleep. “There has to be a geographic component to the UnSub’s design.”

He moves to the map, using a marker to connect the dots from each of the crime scenes. “An arrow pointing south? It’s a quadrilateral, but there’s nothing particularly symbolic about a four-sided concave polygon.”

Juliette stands up and moves towards the map, holding out her hand. “May I?”

She takes his marker and draws on the board. “See what happens when you add a curve to the lines?”

“A heart.” Spencer says, his face showing that his wheels are turning. “Garrett and the UnSub both killed their victims with stab wounds through the heart.”

“Garrett was executed by a shot through the heart…” Rossi starts, but Juliette cuts him off.

“Helen Garrett, it’s all about her.”

And with that, the team’s awake, rushing to the SUVs en route to Helen’s house. Garcia calls to inform the them that Helen’s not answering her phone, but she’s combing through her contacts to see where she might be.

They clear the house almost immediately, with no sign of the woman or a struggle. It seems as though they’ve hit a dead end, until Garcia calls Hotch with more information. “Sir, according to prison records, she checked in today at 1:05 to pick up her husband’s personal items. She checked out, like, four minutes ago, at 1:37.”

“All right, call Warden Hansen, have him stop her from leaving.” Looking up from his phone, he turns to the team. “Morgan, Leroux, we’ll stay here in case the UnSub shows. The rest of you, go to the prison.”

While the team made their way to the prison, Garcia called Hotch with more insight. They learned that Helen Garrett had a brain tumor that was successfully removed, but she required full reconstructive surgery to repair the damage to her head. With this information, they could conclude that the hair missing from the victims was used to build a wig for Helen.

“How would the UnSub know about Helen’s surgery? She’s intensely private and solitary.” Juliette asks.

“You’re right, she’d only confide a detail like that to someone she trusted.” Morgan nods. “It takes months, if not years to build that kind of trust. So, who had that kind of time with her?”

“The same person who’d be able to witness firsthand her devotion to Rod Garrett.” Hotch says. “The UnSub knew she’d never be available to him as long as her husband was still alive. That’s why he tried to kill Garrett twice in prison.”

“All right, prison connections, a romantic obsession years in the making, and the ability to have long talks under seemingly normal circumstances.” Juliette lists. “What about the prison shuttle driver?”

Juliette’s guess was correct, but unfortunately a few minutes too late. The shuttle is abandoned in the parking lot of the prison, with both Helen and the driver, Dylan Kohler, missing. Although they have local police heading to his house, they doubt he’s going back there.

As Morgan, Juliette, and Hotch are driving to the prison, they receive yet another call from Garcia. She did a check for people in Enid who had ordered the supplies for wig-making, and a D. Kohler had ordered all of the supplies to a work space just outside of the city.

So the trio turns around and races to the address, to find Dylan holding an ice pick to Helen as soon as the enter. They’re able to talk him down before the local police arrive, Hotch cuffing Dylan while Juliette escorts Helen out of the warehouse.

The jet ride home is much more cheery, JJ agreeing to Spencer’s babysitting offer while Hotch, Rossi, and Juliette are gathered in their usual seats. Once they take off, Rossi starts the conversation. “So, what time should I pick up Jack tomorrow?”

Hotch sighs. “Well, I have to leave by six AM.”

Ignoring Juliette’s groaning, Rossi smiles. “I tell you what, you put on the coffee and I’ll be there.”

Hotch nods in thanks, but Rossi continues. “You two nervous?”

“I’m ready to beat boss man, if that’s what you mean.” Juliette smiles, basking in Hotch’s scowl.

“That’s not fair, this is my first time.”

Juliette shakes her head, gathering her things into her tote. “Whatever you say. I’m going to take a nap, meet you under the tree at 6:30?”

Hotch nods, watching her kick Derek off of the couch, citing he’s not actually sleeping. He’s only snapped out of his trance by Rossi’s murmur. “So you and Jules, huh?”

He blinks a few times, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“All I’m saying is, I’ve never seen you this close with another agent.”

Hotch glances around the jet. “We’ve… bonded. But we’re _just friends_.”

“I know.” Rossi nods. “But I also know she’s thinking the same thing as you, just a little more conflicted.”

He exhales, his gaze returning to Juliette sleeping peacefully on the couch. “She’s still grieving.”

“She’ll always be grieving Griff. That doesn’t mean she has to do it alone.”

Aaron considered Rossi’s words for the rest of the night, his dreams clouded with the idea of simply existing with Juliette. But he knows today will be emotional, doing her first marathon without Griffin, so it’s most definitely not the time to bring up his own feelings.

They meet under a designated tree at 6:30, only the streetlights illuminating the crowds of people. Juliette’s wearing her usual black sports bra and shorts, fidgeting with her now-visible rings more than usual, but otherwise keeping her composure.

Juliette grills Hotch on what he had for breakfast, ensuring he had enough carbs and water. She forces him into stretching, as well as confirms he has energy gels and knows which places to stop for water.

As soon as the clock hits seven, the two start off running together, but soon Juliette speeds up and leaves Hotch in the wind. Once she’s alone, sadness sets in. She misses joking around with Griff to ignore her burning calves, or splashing water in his face when he tried to run faster.

When she passes the finish line in just under three hours, greeted by the team cheering with posters, she feels ungrateful for wanting to be in Griffin’s arms, spinning in a celebratory hug before laying a soft kiss on his lips.

But she still manages to smile when Rossi grabs her head to place a kiss on each of her cheeks, and when the hungover women give her high-fives while complaining about the noise. She’s so busy downing a second bottle of water, that she almost misses Hotch finishing just twenty minutes behind her.

He makes a beeline for the water table, patting Juliette on the shoulder before draining a bottle of his own. When the rest of the team walks up with a young boy running ahead of them, Hotch grabs his medal and places it around his neck. “You did it!” Jack smiles, jumping up and down.

“I did, buddy. Your sign’s fantastic.” He smiles, looking up from his son.

“How do you feel?” Juliette asks, returning the grin.

“I think I’m gonna live.”

As the team disperses into their own conversations, agreeing they should find something to eat, Aaron and Jack approach Juliette. “Jack, this is Juliette. She fights bad guys like me.”

“Really?” The boy smiles, looking up to Juliette.

“Really.” She nods, pointing to his sign. “Did you make that?”

“Yep. I colored it myself and put the sparkles on, too.”

“That’s amazing.” She smiles, nodding towards the group walking away from them. “Should we go get some lunch?”

Jack nods, racing off to find his Uncle Dave and leaving the two walking alone. “Not that I’m surprised, but you’re great with kids.” Hotch says.

Juliette’s smile turns bittersweet. “Griff had a lot of nieces and nephews.”

“Do you still get to see them?”

“On holidays, I try.” Hotch watches her smile come back as she thinks about to the kids. “A few of them are teenagers now, it’s crazy.”

He would’ve listened to Juliette talk all day, but the team had found a taco truck and a few open picnic benches to settle at. She orders the most meat-filled taco she can find, standing off to the side with Morgan and Emily wait for their orders.

Juliette’s oblivious to the two looking at her until Morgan speaks up, pointing to her chest. “Are those wedding rings?”

Her hand instinctively goes to her chest, but she nods. “Yeah, they are.”

Morgan raises his eyebrows. “You’re _married?_ ”

“I was.” Juliette says, wondering how a profiler can’t use _fucking_ context clues.

“But you still wear-“ His face falls, earning a glare from Emily. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-“

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.” Juliette glowers, collecting her order and sitting in a seat across from Hotch and Jack. She’s thankful they’re deep in a conversation about Star Wars, because Juliette’s pretty sure that her voice would crack if she tried to speak.

She’s quiet for most of the lunch, occasionally answering a question from Jack or saying goodbye to a team member who’s leaving to enjoy the rest of their Saturday. Finally, Jack runs off to the playground with Rossi, leaving the two alone.

“Thanks for all of the help, I wouldn’t have been able to complete the run without your training.” Hotch says.

“It’s no problem, thank you for training with me.” Juliette’s voice falls. “I don’t think I would’ve done the race without someone encouraging me.”

“I know… the little things can be hard. But you did really well.”

“It’s just weird-“ She stops herself, rubbing her face with her hands in an effort to push back any tears. “I think I’m going to head home now, see you on Monday?”

“See you on Monday.” Hotch nods, standing up from the bench with her.

Yet, something stops them from walking away. Juliette blames it on being too emotional, while Hotch on his post-marathon delirium, but they exchange a sweaty, heartfelt embrace. Juliette practically melts under his touch, caught in the hug for much longer than could be considered friendly.

Separating, they only exchange a nod as Juliette leaves to her car. She remains composed on her drive home, digging in her purse for her keys, and entering her empty townhome. It’s only as she steps into the cool shower that she falls to her knees and lets herself break down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write this chapter since I first had the idea for this book, but I'm not sure it came out the way I planned aghhh. But I'm super excited for the next chapter, it's one of my favorites so far!!
> 
> The title is from the actual book The Arabian Nights, an amazing read aside from the CM reference!


	8. a farewell to kings

Not much changes for Hotch and Juliette in the week after the run. Juliette’s back to herself on Monday, greeting Hotch at the crack of dawn with their favorite coffee. While Strauss’ returned to work, she still completes most of her work from Hotch’s office couch, helping him with his so that he has more time with Jack.

Two back-to-back cases lead them to Friday, and although they were solved quickly, the team’s itching for a break. Fortunately, Hotch arranges for them to have Saturday off, and everyone immediately has plans. Spencer and Garcia are headed to a Comic Con, which he explains to Juliette on the jet ride back. Rossi has a cigar event, JJ is spending the day with Henry, Hotch is heading to the zoo with Jack and Jessica, and Morgan and Emily are viewing houses.

Speaking of whom, Morgan did apologize for his ring comment from when she first joined the team, as well as his insensitivity that Saturday. However, Juliette isn’t quick to accept the apology when she knows he gossiped, because Garcia came to her between cases to ask why so much of her file is redacted.

Juliette decides to spend her day catching up on her own case files that have been neglected since she’s been helping Aaron. Hotch was adamant that she take the day off, but Juliette knows that it’s better for her than sitting at home alone all day.

So that’s how her Saturday morning starts, picking up a large coffee at her usual spot before setting up shop on Hotch’s office couch. She’s barely been in the office for an hour before the normal rushing around in the building intensifies, and Anderson informs her of a hostage situation in a major DC bank.

She coordinates with Hotch to call the team to the scene as fast as possible, as they’re taking point with Metro DC police. Juliette’s the first of them to make it to the bank, briefed by JJ’s husband, Will LaMontagne.

She learns that he and his partner were first on the scene, engaging in a shootout with two of the men. He shot one of them, but they managed to retreat back into the bank before backup arrived.

As Hotch and the rest of the team show up, they learn that this trio, known as the Face Cards, have conducted seven bank robberies in the past seven months, killing one person at each robbery. They hack the security cameras to turn off when they’re not wearing their masks, made to look like the King, Queen, and Jack.

Just as Hotch is about to assign roles, Strauss arrives on the scene. “The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.”

Hotch nods, but Juliette notices his posture stiffen. “We’re about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

“That’s not a good idea, there are hostages in front of the doors and windows.”

Strauss only nods, stepping away as her phone rings. “JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That’s going to be our victimology. Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD. Dave and Leroux, I want you to handle negotiations.” Hotch orders.

As the group disperses, he motions for Juliette to step to the side with him. “The Director’s going to want this over with as soon as possible, but I’m concerned the UnSubs won’t react in the way they’re expecting.”

“I’ll do my best to keep her off your ass, but I’m worried too much of this is over her head.” Juliette says, trying not to get his hopes up.

“Thank you.” Hotch nods, excusing himself to help Morgan.

Unfortunately, the UnSubs react to Rossi and Juliette as Hotch expected, demanding for a medic with the threat of killing more people. When the Director demands they send a medic in, Juliette has to step away. Higher-ups thinking they know what’s best is how people get killed, and it’s only the thought of getting this case over with that calms her down.

It feels as though they’re going one step forward, two steps backwards. While they have an ID on the two men, the medic’s shot just minutes after he enters. Just after the gunshots ring through the medic’s earpiece, Strauss enters the room. “The Director’s ordered a full tactical assault.”

Hotch’s gaze could kill. “When the crossfire starts, that’s going to happen to the hostages caught in the middle?”

“That’s the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.” Juliette says, her hands clenched into fists.

“It’s not my call.”

Juliette’s eyebrows furrow. “You’re here, and you’re in charge.”

“You want me to disobey the Director?”

“No, I just want you to buy us a little time. Don’t be so efficient.”

Strauss studies Juliette before nodding. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”

The team overcomes their surprise quickly, instead working on a new negotiation tactic. Through intel Emily received from Interpol, as well as Garcia’s sleuthing, they’re able to find that the woman texted 911 thirty seconds before they robbed the bank, and someone else is watching the bank robbery remotely.

They use this information to attempt to tear the man and woman against each other, but it backfires. “Enough, I’m done talking to you. I want to talk to the cop who shot my brother.”

“No, no, forget it.” JJ immediately says, panic clear in her voice.

“JJ, if it means we can end this-“ Will starts, but she cuts him off.

“What makes you think he won’t shoot you the second you walk inside?”

“I know you’d do it if you were me.”

JJ can’t disagree, but Hotch cuts in. “Sorry Will, it’s not an option.”

The male UnSub, who they’ve identified as Chris Stratton, speaks into the phone again. “Where’s that cop, huh? I ain’t got all day.”

“What you’re asking isn’t easy.” Juliette says into the phone.

“Well, I’ll make it easy. Send in the cop, I’ll let a few hostages go.” Chris says. “A sign of good faith, isn’t that what you said.”

Juliette takes a deep breath, glancing to JJ’s shaking head. “Releasing the hostages is a great first step in resolving this conflict, but we can’t send someone else in to be killed.”

“This ain’t a fuckin’ debate.” He groans, dropping the phone as they watch him on the security cameras. Chris picks out a man from their human barricade, forcing him to pick up the phone. “Tell her your name.”

“It’s… It’s Shawn Harper.”

As soon as Shawn’s finished speaking, Chris raises his gun and shoots him point-blank in the head. “You just killed Shawn Harper. Not me, you. I’m gonna shoot another hostage every sixty seconds until you send in the cop.”

“Screw this, I’m going in.” Will says, stepping away from the group.

Before anyone can move, Will’s past the barricades and jogging towards the doors of the bank, with Morgan and Emily holding JJ back. Juliette’s frozen in place, listening to JJ’s broken cries to her partner. But she shakes herself out of it, turning towards the security camera feed just in time to see Chris shoot Will.

This time, JJ’s screams break her heart to pieces. She can feel the agony in her voice, the hopelessness that she had once felt. She tears her eyes away from the camera when Rossi places a hand on her shoulder, looking up to the rest of the team. “We need to get inside.” JJ says, determination lining her voice.

Hotch's expression falters, as if it hurts to hear her speak. “JJ, it’s too risky.”

“Aaron…” She pleads.

Hotch looks to Juliette, their eye contact not lost on the other team members. As soon as she nods, he gives in. “Let’s go in.”

They can’t just storm the place, and coordinating a plan with SWAT proves more difficult than Juliette thought. As soon as they’re about to enter, Will and another hostage manage to distract Chris, allowing the rest of the hostages to exit the building.

They decide to simply rush in, a plan much easier without a dozen other lives to consider. Just as they start in building, a low rumbling precedes a blinding blast, knocking every agent to the ground.

Juliette isn’t knocked out by the explosion, instead pushed into an unsuspecting police officer. She mumbles an apology to him, immediately clutching her gun and racing into the rubble. Finding every member of the team but Hotch, she exits the bank to see him on the phone. “Yeah, I love you too, buddy.”

As soon as he hangs up, he turns to Juliette, relief coloring his face. “I couldn’t find you.”

“I went in to find stragglers.” She explains. “Do we know what happened?”

“Some sort of explosion near the electrical lines.” He exhales, placing his hands on his neck. “We do know that wasn’t improvised, someone’s been planning this for weeks.”

“My bet’s on the woman.” Juliette shakes her head. “Have they found Will?”

“No, JJ and Morgan are searching the underground tunnels now.” Hotch’s face softens. “Are you alright to keep working this?”

“As long as I have something to do.”

“Go coordinate with MPD, I’ll call you when I hear from the others.”

It doesn’t take long for Hotch to order Juliette back to the tents, filling her in what they found. While Will had left ‘breadcrumbs’ behind in order to tell the team where they’re taking him, it’s Garcia who found him on security cameras, leaving with the woman and one of the hostages, who turned out to be her partner. While Will was shot in the arm, they had an EMT patch him up before escaping in a government SUV.

This doesn’t leave them with much, as there are dozens of those cars in the area, just that they can see. Thankfully, this is when Emily rushes into the room after another call to her Interpol contact, informing them of times when that type of bomb has been used before, leading to identification of both of the UnSubs.

They use this to piece together their motivation and relationship, leading the team to believe they’re attacking Union Station. While JJ rushes back to her house after her sitter doesn’t answer the phone, Morgan, Hotch, Emily, and Juliette enter the train station.

Juliette starts up one staircase with Emily, gun unholstered by her side. As soon as they enter the second floor, they see a man running across the platform. “I got the suspect going out the east wing.” Emily says into her mic, turning around to look for Will as Juliette runs after him.

Their chase doesn’t last long, Juliette knocks the UnSub down after two bullets to the back, only calling for medics after kicking his gun away and ensuring he’s unconscious. She then runs back in the direction of Emily, finding her and Will panting on the floor with a freshly disarmed bomb attached to his chest.

The afternoon is a blur for Juliette, between directing the bomb squad, calming Emily through a panic attack, and accepting praise from Strauss and the Director for their work. She finally makes it back to the building that evening, showering in the gym locker rooms and changing into something less ash-covered from her go-bag.

Juliette only realizes she had left her things on Hotch’s couch when she enters the bullpen, forcing her to wave past the team and sheepishly knock on his office door. He’s in the room alone, setting down his pen when she enters. “I was working in here before I heard the news this morning, I hope that’s alright.” Juliette explains, gathering her files into a tote.

“You know I don’t mind.” Hotch leans back in his chair. “Rossi’s have a party at his mansion tomorrow, something for JJ and Will. He says we’re all coming, whether we want to or not.”

“He still forces people to call it his mansion? I need to check his ego more often.” Juliette scoffs, savoring her boss’ grin. “I don’t have any plans, what about you?”

“I’ll have to bring Jack, but Henry will be there, so it should be fun.”

Juliette finishes gathering her things, starting towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hotch.”

“You can call me Aaron.” Hotch says, stopping her in her tracks.

“You seem to prefer to call people by their first names.” He explains. “I’m comfortable with Aaron, if you’d like.”

“I’ve never been one for last names with people I’m close to, it feels impersonal.” She debates internally for a moment, settling with what her heart’s saying. “You can call me Juliette, if you’d like.”

A soft smile creeps onto his face. “Goodnight, Juliette.”

“Goodnight, Aaron.” She returns, finally exiting his office.

\---

Juliette’s one of the last people to enter Rossi’s backyard, immediately taking a glass of champagne from one of the tables and stepping aside to observe the crowd. There’s a canopy set up for what she can only assume is JJ’s ceremony, and classic rock playing through speakers circling the property. Her attention’s grasped by Jack and Henry, who are watching Spencer perform a magic trick.

She almost wonders where Hotch is, until he exits the house with a glass of whiskey in his hands, heading directly for her. “I didn’t peg you for the tattoo type.”

Juliette’s low-cut slip dress reveals more then she would normally show, including the blackbird tattoos emerging between her breasts. She flashes her signature bittersweet smile. “Griff and I got matching ones, Blackbird was our wedding song.”

“That happens to be my favorite album.” Hotch nods, ready to talk extensively about The Beatles when Rossi whistles from the front of the crowd, signaling whatever he has planned is about to start.

The ceremony’s small, and Juliette feels selfish for being reminded of her own wedding day. Her party consisted of family and a few close friends, done in a small park in upstate New York. She’s snapped back to reality for their kiss, joining the team in clapping for the couple.

They start their first dance to a Chicago song, but as soon as the second song plays, almost everyone’s on the dance floor. Juliette starts out dancing with Rossi, attempting to enjoy the moment, but discreetly watching Emily make her way around the stage.

When Rossi drops her arms, choosing to dance with Emily as she whispers something in his ear, Juliette’s only left with one person to dance with; Hotch.

She tentatively takes him hand, both of them ignoring when she jerks at the feeling of his hand on her waist. Her skin burns as her their torsos press together, yet she can’t help but notice how much she _enjoys_ it. Still, it ends all too soon, with a quick tap on her shoulder she’s being traded off again

Suddenly, her hand is intertwined with Emily’s, and she’s whispering in Juliette’s ear. “I’m going back to Interpol, to run the London Gateway office.”

Juliette’s not surprised at the choice to leave the FBI, but to Interpol? “You really want to go back into that?”

Emily smiles, the bittersweet kind they both know all too well. “Even in a room of profilers, you’re the only person not to ask _why_.”

“I know what it’s like to want a fresh start.” She says, watching Emily’s eyes flutter down to the rings on her neck.

“So you and Hotch really aren’t-”

“We’re just friends.” Juliette cuts her off, perhaps a little too harshly.

“Alright, just… don’t forget about your own fresh start.”

With that, a new song plays. It’s something more upbeat, allowing everyone to get lost in the crowd, and for Juliette to slip away. She stands to the edge of the patio, another champagne in her hand, lost in her thoughts. In that _incessant_ guilt.

The group disperses after the song ends, most opting to mingle rather than break a sweat in their nice clothes. Juliette’s still alone when JJ approaches her, surprised by the gesture. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did yesterday. Will and I- thank you.”

Juliette starts to say it’s not a big deal, but being squished in a hug stops her. When JJ pulls away, her face is more somber. “You don’t have answer this, but… why did Hotch look to you at the bank?”

Juliette’s almost surprised, she honestly thought her personal life had made it around the entire floor by now. “I think he wanted someone else to tell him that breaking protocol was the right call, but I’m not sure why he chose me.”

Her finger absent-mindedly twist the rings. “I know what it’s like to loose someone to bureaucracy, and I’d do anything to make sure no one else goes through the same thing.”

“Thank you.” JJ starts to tear up, and Juliette wants to scream for her to stop, because soon she’ll be crying too. “I’m sorry about your…”

“Husband, Griffin.” She takes a breath, suddenly realizing where she is again. “Today’s not about me, go enjoy your family.”

“Okay,” JJ starts, clutching Juliette’s hands. “But you know you’re our family, too.”

She only nods, but for the first time since she joined the team, Juliette believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I love this chapter, I'm going to miss writing Emily though. Title is song by Rush, I thought it fit both with the case and Emily's exit.


	9. the ballad of me and my brain

The team’s given two weeks off, only because everyone started asking for time off after Garcia and JJ left to help Emily move. Hotch takes Jack to Disney, Morgan flies off to some beach, Spencer flies to Nevada to visit his mother and attend a conference on neurotransmitters, and Juliette’s pretty sure she saw Rossi leaving with Strauss that night.

While the women invited Juliette to go with them, she opted to rent a cabin in the North Carolina mountains, spending most of her time reading a pile of books Spencer gave her. She finds it therapeutic, being able to shut off her phone and simply feel her emotions as they come.

Though she enjoys the break, Juliette can’t escape the somber mood the mountains put her in. She remembers camping with her father among these same trees, hiking and relishing in every moment away from the rest of the world.

Towards the end of her vacation, she comes to a horrifying realization; she misses the team. She misses Spencer’s rambles, JJ talking about Henry, and even Rossi relaying his poker games. Then she misses Hotch, and she hates herself for admitting it. Juliette’s become so accustomed to doing everything on her own, pushing away any opportunity to rely on someone else, that this family dynamic she’s stumbled upon is… terrifying.

Part of her says it’s simply a fear of abandonment, but family is good for her, this can be a good thing. The other side of her wants to run away, shutting off any connection to the outside world so that Penelope Garcia can’t even find her.

But Juliette doesn’t have the time nor the resources to go off the grid, so she packs her things Saturday morning (or afternoon, for those who don’t sleep in past noon), and drives the six hours back to Quantico.

She spends the night nursing a bottle of wine, watching whatever documentaries the History Channel’s showing. Sunday morning comes early, but she still has to train if she wants to stay faster than Morgan. Even after a stop at the coffee shop she’s missed those two weeks, Juliette doesn’t expect to see anyone she knows at the park, especially not a certain unit chief.

Aaron’s stepping out of his car as she runs up to the start of the trail, immediately meeting her gaze and exchanging a smile. “What’re you doing here?” Juliette asks when he’s jogged up next to her.

“I thought I’d get a run in while Jack’s getting donuts with Jess.” Hotch replies. “When did you get back from the mountains?”

“Yesterday.” She smiles, thankful when he seems genuinely interested in what she has to say. Juliette tells him about the weather, the books she read, and even the notes Spencer left in the margins. She can see from how relaxed Aaron’s shoulders are she doesn’t need to ask him how Florida was, but she does anyway. Maybe it’s trivial conversation, but it’s more for the comfort of the other’s company rather than the topic.

When they return to the entrance, Hotch stops them in front of where they would usually part ways. He seems more spacey than usual, and for a moment Juliette’s concerned they have a case. “So, we’ve been doing this running thing for awhile, but I was thinking we could go out to dinner together sometime.” He starts, gauging her reaction.

Juliette tries her best to remain outwardly calm as he continues to speak, but her brain is screaming so many different things and her heart’s beating so fast that she can only think of one response. “I- I can’t.”

Before Hotch can process what she said, Juliette’s gone. Leaving him in the wind, she sprints the entire way home, only stopping for a breath once she’s locked the door to her apartment.

It’s only after Juliette’s sitting against the wall, head between her knees, that she realizes all of her suspicions were true, and she still has no idea what to do. Revelations come fast after that, suddenly aware she may have ruined their relationship forever, and that she has to see him at the office the next day.

Soon that doesn’t even touch the surface, because Juliette knows that she _wants_ to say yes, but she can’t. She can’t imagine being with anyone else, she can’t think about anything other than dinners with _him_.

She spends the rest of her day in bed, curtains shut, staring at the ceiling and wondering what in the world she’s going to do. After a long shower, Juliette decides to do what’s always worked for her; avoidance.

It’s a sleepless night of figuring out how much she can ignore her boss, but without a case, at least she can come in on her own terms. Unfortunately, as soon as Juliette exits the sixth floor elevator, Rossi’s grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her up to his office. She feigns innocence as soon as the door shuts behind them. “What is this about?”

He raises his eyebrows. “You ran away from him?”

“He told you?”

Rossi takes a breath, seemingly calming himself down. “I encouraged him to ask you.”

Juliette presses her hands to her eyes, turning to sit on his couch. When releases her hands from her face, tears smudge her mascara. “How can I do that to Griff?”

Rossi’s face falls, sitting on the couch next to her and placing a hand on her’s. “Griffin was the most loving, understanding person I’ve ever known, and if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that he’d want you to be happy.”

“I just-“ Her eyes squeeze shut again, locking her hands around the back of her neck to control her breathing. “I loved him so much.”

This time, Rossi places a hand on the small of her back. “Lucky for you, there isn’t a limited amount of love to go around. Aaron knows that better then anyone, just talk to him.”

Hearing commotion in the bullpen, Juliette quickly wipes under her eyes. “I’ll… think about it.”

“Good.” He nods, following her out of the office.

At front of the bullpen, a flustered Garcia’s greeting an agent with JJ and Spencer. “This is Dr. Alex Blake, our new team member.” He says to the two.

“Juliette Leroux.” Juliette shakes the women’s hand, internally questioning how in the world Hotch managed to find a replacement already.

“Oh, are you French?” Blake looks to her badge, oblivious to Spencer’s eyes going wide.

“Dr. Blake’s a linguistics professor at Georgetown. She just, uh-”

“No, it’s alright.” Juliette fakes a smile, having become more accustomed to prying since she first met the team. “My father was French.”

Just as she was hoping no one would make the situation more awkward, Hotch exits his office. “We have a case.”

Juliette sits next to Rossi at the round table, ignoring his hand on her knee as Hotch presents the case. “A few hours ago, there was a prison transfer to the county hospital in Abilene, Texas. The ambulance crashed, and the prisoner escaped.”

“Aren’t the US Marshals on this?” Morgan asks.

“Yes, they are, but they need your help, because this is what they found inside.” Garcia replies, letting photos pop up on the screen. “The EMT and the driver died in the accident. The guard, however, was suffocated, and his mouth sewn shut.”

Blake is the first person to make the connection. “So the prisoner is The Silencer?”

“Forensics confirms it’s the same unique double knot ligature used in all three murders.” Hotch nods.

“His last known victim was in 2004, and he was never caught.” Spencer adds. “Now we know he didn’t go dormant by choice, he was just locked up.”

“We got his face, what’s his name?” Morgan asks, referring to the lack of information in their file.

“John Doe. He was pullover in ’04 for a traffic violation, no tags. He carried no ID.” Hotch says. “They searched his car and found a gun with a silencer.”

Rossi scoffs. “He was practically telling us who he was.”

Hotch nods, avoiding Juliette’s eyes as he scans the room. “Wheels up in 20.”

Juliette forgoes her usual spot on the jet, instead sitting with Spencer and Blake as they talk linguistics. When Spencer stands to make a coffee, Blake turns her attention to her. “So, I heard I’m taking over your place as newbie.”

“Yes, you are.” She smiles softly. “I joined three months ago.”

The new agent nods, but Juliette notices that familiar look of constant analyzing. “Is Garcia always so…”

Juliette sighs, possibly showing too much emotion for her typical demeanor. “That bad?” Blake questions.

“Not bad, I just had to get used to it. I don’t think she means harm.”

Their gossiping stops when Spencer returns, the topic moving the Sherlock Holmes books.

\---

One all-nighter and another kill later, this UnSub seems to be two steps ahead of them no matter what. Hotch told everyone to get some sleep, so now Juliette’s sitting on the edge of the bed, sorting through all of the leads they have.

However, she can barely focus when she knows Aaron’s awake right next door, having seen him slide files into his briefcase as well. She still hadn’t spoken to him, or even thought about what she could say to him, but no amount of self control could stop her from knocking on the door to his room.

Hotch wordlessly opens the door, only speaking once it’s closed behind Juliette. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line-”

“No, you didn’t.” She interrupts. “I really should have expected it, I- I like you too, but I just… I loved Griff. And I’m not sure I’ll ever stop loving him, and I know it’s stupid, I just panicked.”

Aaron’s face softens, sitting on the edge of his bed and inviting her to do the same. Side by side, their hands threaten to touch, but don’t quite make it that far. “Haley was my high school sweetheart. Even after everything, I could never see myself not loving her. But I know she wouldn’t want me waiting forever for her to come back.”

Juliette exhales, composing her thoughts as a tear falls. “Then if it’s alright with you, I’d love to go to dinner sometime.”

“Alright.” Hotch nods. “You know if you ever want to talk, about anything, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” Juliette murmurs, allowing her voice to dissolve into the silence of the room.

Before she can get up to leave, Aaron puts his arms around her in a hug, only tightening once she returns the embrace. Juliette buries her face in his neck, savoring the moment until she forces herself to pull away.

As they make their way to the door, Juliette turns around. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight, Juliette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for comments and kudos, your feedback (and the fact anyone is reading this) means soo much. Just a reminder that I have a tumblr (prentiss-es) where I post updates and drabbles for this story. 
> 
> The title is from the 1975 song, it reminds me of the battle Juliette is having with herself.


	10. if you're too shy (let me know)

The Silencer commits suicide by cop two days later, even after extensive attempts to talk him down, in sign language by Blake and French by Juliette. The team to flies back from Texas Thursday afternoon, working on paperwork into the evening. Most of the team leaves for dinner, but Juliette stays at her desk, working on case reports for as long as she can.

Long after the sun’s set, she looks up to see Hotch standing in front of her. “You know those aren’t due today.” He says, nodding to the papers.

“I know, I just thought I would get ahead.” Juliette replies, not bothering to lie.

“Come on, let’s go.”

She brows furrow. “Where?”

“There’s a diner not far from here, I know you haven’t eaten.” He offers. “Unless you’re too tired.”

“No, I’m fine. Let’s go.” Juliette swiftly packs up her tote, following Aaron to the elevator and out of the building.

They take his car, with the promise he’ll drive her back to her car after dinner. The diner’s hidden away, but captivating to Juliette. The exposed brick and effortlessly retro theme make her wonder how she’s never heard of it.

So, after they order, she asks. “How’d you find this place?”

“Sean found it when he came to visit one time, they have great coffee.”

“Sean’s your brother, right?” Juliette asks again.

“Yeah, he is.” Aaron shrugs. “Last I heard, he’s a bartender in NYC.”

“That’s cool.” She nods, but he doesn’t continue. “You never talk about your family.”

“Neither do you.” He rebuttals.

“Touché.” Juliette contemplates for a moment. “I believe you asked about my father awhile ago?”

“I suppose I did.”

She leans back in her seat, as if she’s getting ready to tell a war story. “ _Mon père_ immigrated from France when he was sixteen, so we pretty much only spoke French with each other. My mother’s from Moscow, but she taught me English so I wouldn’t be behind in school.”

“That’s fascinating.” Aaron smiles, his chest filling with warmth as she speaks.

“It felt like we had our own secret code when I was little, he was my best friend. He was a cop in DC, which is why he started taking me to the range when I was eight.” Juliette smiles, but it soon falters. “He was killed in the line of duty when I was thirteen, which is why I was talking with Morgan in Chicago.”

His face falls. “I’m sorry.”

Juliette shakes her head in dismissal. “Anyways, my mom was very focused on my education, so she was infuriated when I fell in love in law school, then when I quit my job to join the bureau. When I spoke to her last year, she'd left retirement to be a professor in Vermont.”

Hotch nods along, but she continues. “This isn’t me trying to pressure you into talking about your family, but mine’s probably not much better.”

He gestures indifferently. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you about them, it’s just not something I ever talk about. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

“Well, the ‘I’m always here to talk’ offer goes both ways here, and I’m not exactly in the position to judge.”

Aaron leans back into his own seat, letting his unwavering posture wilt. “Both of my parents are from Virginia, so I grew up here. My dad was a lawyer, he’s the reason I became prosecutor, Sean almost became one too.”

He pauses, but continues after a reassuring nod from Juliette. “He was also an alcoholic who died of a heart attack when I was 28. I’m not sure why my mother stuck with him, but now I get a phone call a few times a year from whichever European country she’s in.”

Just as he finishes, the waiter came over with their food, leaving the conversation stalled in comfortable silence. Juliette can’t help but reflect on Aaron’s life, on how similar they truly are.

She’s become so accustomed to being lonely, for the second time in her life grief has brought her to this point, but he seems to understand, and is still willing to risk loss just for a chance with _her_.

Halfway through the meal, Juliette’s jolted out of her head by Aaron’s voice. “How come you don’t blame Strauss?”

Juliette understands the magnitude of the question, but decides to answer truthfully anyways. “I did, for awhile. Eventually I, or my therapist, realized I could’ve told Erin to go fuck herself, but I chose my job, so I really only have myself to blame.”

It’s as if he didn’t hear her answer, because of what he asks next. “There wasn’t any record of bureau therapy in your file.”

She almost laughs, flashing her bittersweet smile as she looks up. “One of the perks of the government not wanting you to spill, I’ll never have mandatory therapy.”

Hotch’s confusion turns to worry, but Juliette waves it off. “I saw someone off the record for two years, the same ones people in WITSEC see.”

When he nods in understanding, knowing he can’t pry more into that topic, silence falls again. As they finish their meal, Juliette stifles what has to be her third yawn. “Let me drive you home, I’ll just pick you up only way in tomorrow.” Hotch offers.

Juliette looks as if she’s going to decline, but exhaustion wins. “If we can stop for coffee, then fine.”

The smile on Aaron’s face as he stands to pay the bill create butterflies in her stomach, the kind that doesn’t go away when he opens the car door for her.

“This doesn’t count as that dinner, by the way. I have a more… appropriate restaurant in mind.” He says once they’re on the road.

“If you say so, but that place was adorable.”

“So you’d want to do this again?”

Aaron can feel Juliette smile from beside him, readjusting so that their arms touch. “Yeah, I would”

The rest of the ride’s quiet, but their goodbyes almost feel routine. “Goodnight Juliette.”

“Goodnight Aaron.”

\---

Sticking to his word, Hotch picks Juliette up the next morning, albeit much earlier than she would usually leave for work. He makes up for it with coffee and muffins, as well as allowing her to work on his couch for the rest of the morning.

It’s midday when she finally leaves her spot, only to make more coffee for them in the kitchenette. The only other person in it is Blake, who has significantly less paperwork than the rest of the team.

They stand in awkward silence as the coffee brews, until the new agent speaks up. “I thought I should let you know that JJ let it slip about your husband, I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s alright, thank you.” Juliette’s not surprised, but she still opts to change the subject. “I heard you have some history with Er- Strauss.”

“That I do, but not the good kind.” Blake responds. “I’m assuming you do as well.”

“Not the good kind, either.” She responds, pouring two cups of coffee. They exchange nods, and even though Juliette _knows_ she’s being profiled, she takes the mugs back to her boss’ office.

It’s a generally uneventful day, except for Spencer’s constant fidgeting, which Hotch and Juliette pick up on through his office window. They only really start to worry when he hurriedly leaves the building early that afternoon, citing he’s going to pick up coffee.

“Can you check up on him?” Hotch asks once they have a moment alone, to which Juliette nods.

Through her and Spencer’s honest conversations, as well as office gossip, Juliette knows most of his history, and understands the worry Aaron has for him. But until he’s back from getting ‘coffee’, she has case reports to fill out.

\---

Two cases are closed without much time for a break, stalling a proper dinner for Juliette and Aaron. They still have paperwork and coffee, but nothing like that one profound conversation.

Nevertheless, the team had just returned from saving a missing family in Kansas, a case that had spanned almost an entire week, leaving Juliette to drive home straight from the airstrip. She finally showers, packs a new go-bag, and climbs into her warm, comforting bed only to be woken by a call from Garcia just before six AM, they have a case.

Juliette doesn’t bother stopping by her desk when she arrives at the office, heading straight for the coffee machine then a seat at the round table. Morgan, Rossi, and Blake are already waiting, the men looking as if they’re going to make a snarky comment, but Juliette’s scowl changes their minds.

Spencer’s the last to arrive, murmuring apologies as he takes a seat. Juliette’s been unable to have a proper conversation with him, and asking how he is in passing has only been met with ‘good.’

Burying his concern, Hotch nods for Garcia to start. “Well, my friends, you are heading to New Mexico because our UnSub _du jour_ is taking right legs. The most recent victim, Tony Anders, was dumped at a local motel. He’s in surgery now, looks like he’s going to pull through. The first victim, Richard Hubbell, not so lucky. He died during the leg absconding process, and his body was dumped just over the border in Juarez, Mexico.”

“Juarez is on the front lines of the cartels, are there any drug connections between the victims?” Morgan asks.

“None that I or the local PDs can find.” Garcia responds.

Juliette looks up from her file. “Tony Anders had IV bruising and surgical sutures on his stump. Were the victims patients anywhere?”

“No, they were the vision of health.”

“So we’re looking at a doctor.” Morgan concludes.

Spencer shakes his head. “The goal of amputation is to remove dead tissue to preserve an otherwise healthy limb, any first-year medical student will tell you that. But this UnSub stitched the skin flap so tightly over Tony's stump that it didn't allow for proper blood flow and led to gangrene. He’s not a surgeon.”

“We can figure that out on the jet.” Hotch says. “Wheels up in 20.”

As everyone starts to leave, Garcia shuffles up to Juliette. “I brushed up on my French while you guys were in Kansas, what did you think?”

While Juliette hasn’t fully warmed up to Garcia, she’s not going to be mean to someone who’s just trying to be friendly. “ _Très bien! A bientôt_.”

“ _Au revoir!_ ” She waves, watching as they disperse around the bullpen.

\---

Two days pass without many leads. While Spencer came to the conclusion that the UnSub could be mortician, this didn’t narrow it down by much with such a large geographic profile. There have been two more killings since the team touched down in New Mexico, the most recent discovered just as they arrived at the precinct for the day.

While the team was busy following leads around the city, they each made their way to the dump site sometime that morning. Juliette arrived by herself, but her lack of medical knowledge and the unremarkable geography of the place, she’s leaving within minutes.

As she’s walking back to the SUV, she’s stopped by Spencer calling out her name. “Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main?”

“Sure.” Juliette nods, inviting him into the passenger seat. However, as soon as she’s started driving, she asks. “What’s at 5th and Main?”

“A payphone.” He answers, as if it’s a perfectly normal place to go.

She nods, but continues to pry. “Why do you need a payphone?”

“To talk to someone.” Spencer responds, just as dismissive as before.

Juliette knows this game can’t go on forever, and now’s as perfect a time as ever to cut to the chase. “I don’t need to know why you can only talk to someone on a payphone, but I do need to know you’re being secretive for a good reason. Is everything alright?”

This time Spencer nods, finally understanding why she’s probing him. “I’m alright, I promise. It’s nothing bad, I just don’t want the team to know abou- about her. They’ll never let it go.”

Slowing putting together the pieces of their conversations over the past few months, Juliette nods. “Are you happy?”

Spencer smiles slightly, his gaze never leaving the window. “I’m very happy.”

She pulls into a parking lot across from the payphone, turning to look at him. “Then I’m happy for you.”

Exchanging a knowing glance, Spencer steps out of the car. “I can just take a cab back.”

Juliette waves him off. “No need. I’m going to look over some files, take your time.”

So he leaves, and Juliette finds a classic rock station on the car radio before carefully reviewing the histories of each of the victims. Ultimately it’s no use, because Spencer returns almost an hour later with an idea that he wants to present to the team.

\---

The case is closed a day later, after successfully detaining a former mortician and rescuing a young woman. They fly back to Quantico that afternoon, but most of the team takes this as an opportunity for some much needed sleep.

Juliette sits alone in a single row, blazing through a book she’s been wanting to read for weeks. Hotch sits at a double with Rossi and Morgan, scribbling on paperwork until his eyes cross, then looking up to sneak a glance at Juliette.

After hours of this, he quietly stands and makes his way into the seat across from her. When she looks up from her book, she’s visibly more relaxed than he’s seen in weeks, the smile ghosting her lips confirming she’s unwound from her stoic professionalism.

“Have enough energy for that dinner tonight?” Hotch asks, having assured everyone else was asleep when he stood up.

“I believe so.” Juliette accepts, immediately deciding any exhaustion can wait a few hours longer.

“I’ll pick you up at 8?” He offers, standing from his seat once again.

Her soft smile creates dimples in her cheeks, drawing all of Aaron’s attention. “Sounds great.”

That evening, Juliette feels like a teenager all over again, obsessing over what to wear and how to style her hair. She knows he’s going to take her somewhere nice, but her voice of reason says to play it cool. So Juliette ends up in a black blazer and pants, however adding low-cut red blouse for a touch of color.

After flat-ironing her hair, adding a touch of lipstick, and exchanging her beat-up Dr. Martins for heeled boots, she answers the door to a similarly dressed Aaron. “You look amazing.” His eyes glisten as she locks her door.

“You’re not too bad, either.” Juliette smiles, accepting his hand to help her down the stairs greeting her townhouse.

She has to stifle a giggle as Aaron opens his car door and helps her into the passenger seat, because _of course_ he’s that much of a gentleman. She can’t help but feel comfortable in his presence, perhaps _too_ comfortable. “You know, I think it’s been almost twenty years since I’ve been on a first date.”

Thankfully, Aaron just chuckles. “God, it’d have to be high school for me.”

“You were high school sweethearts?” Juliette raises her eyebrows. “If I was with the same guy from high school… maybe I’d still be the manager of their punk rock band.”

He shakes his head in amusement as he parks outside of a nice Italian restaurant, a place Juliette _knows_ Rossi recommended. Even so, it seems Aaron knew exactly when she was thinking. “I normally wouldn’t take advice from Dave, but he said you would ‘die for’ the ravioli here.”

She only laughs, taking his inviting hand as they enter the restaurant. Once seating, she starts the conversation light. “So, the Beatles.”

“What can I say, they made good music.” Hotch shrugs. “What about you, are you as big of a fan of punk rock?”

Juliette shakes her head. “No, definitely not. I’m more of a Zeppelin or Rush sort of classic rock fan, but Chopin and Mozart will always have my heart.”

“Really, classical?” He seems surprised, but only for a moment. “Do you play anything?”

She smiles, because _damn_ profilers. “I grew up playing piano. There’s a grand in my living room, although I barely have time to play now.”

“Impressive.” He nods. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

After they order, Hotch speaks up again. “Did you get a chance to talk to Spencer?”

“Yeah, I did.” She pauses, planning her words carefully. “I don’t want to say too much, but it’s a good thing.”

“Good.” He returns her smile, their eyes admiring the other’s until the waiter serves their food.

Towards the end of the meal, after wine and light conversation calm their hidden nerves, more serious topics arise. “I think I’ve made it clear I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing, but I just want to make sure you’re okay with going slow.” Juliette says, clenching her fist with anxiety.

“I wouldn’t do it any other way.” He smiles slightly. “You’ve already met Jack, but I’m going to keep you as a coworker for the time being.”

“Sounds good.” She nods, accepting his hand to leave the restaurant. They keep them interlaced as Hotch drives back to her apartment, classic rock playing softly from the radio. Just like that, they’ve become the thing they never expected to have again. And neither of them are mad about it.

Ever the gentleman, Hotch walks Juliette to her door before exchanging a goodbye embrace. “Goodnight Juliette.”

“Goodnight Aaron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may seem weird, it was originally two chapters that I combined because they were short. I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Title is from the 1975 song.


	11. perseverance

_Love is our true destiny._  
_We do not find the meaning of_  
_life by ourselves alone_ \--  
_We find it with another_. 

_-Thomas Merton_

To Juliette, it seems this job can only work in extremes. After those three weeks of back-to-back cases, it felt like serial killers were taking September off. Two weeks of consults and training were fun, but the team’s itching to get back on their feet.

Thankfully, just as Juliette entered the bullpen, Garcia exits her lair with files stacked in her arms, they have a case. Yet again, Spencer’s the last to arrive, citing an appointment. “Three days ago, Bruce Phillips was found dead with his blond hair dyed black. He had been put in a box and left on a busy street.” Garcia starts, displaying photos on the screen.

“He’s practically folded in half.” Morgan says, pointing out the obvious.

“He had also been hung and restrained, but that’s where the plot thickens.” She adds. “Yesterday, a couple, Justin Marks and Connie Foster, went missing two miles away from the first abduction site.”

“A couple? He’s escalating.” JJ points out.

“This morning Justin's body was found, he had been hung as well. He was been stuffed in a box left in an alley, officers say his brown hair had been dyed black. Connie's still missing.”

“Well, he’s kept Connie. Maybe she’s the object of his desire.”

“They were abducted outside of their homes, so they were probably being stalked.” Juliette adds. “Her purse was found on the ground outside of her home, so the UnSub could use some sort of ruse.”

“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes.” Spencer counters.

She shrugs. “Some people let their guard down.”

“Yeah, but stalking victims vary their routes home. They enter and exit through different doors, they wear disguises. They don't talk to anyone in their driveway, they hardly talk to anyone at all. They’re- they’re terrorized.”

Juliette knows this isn’t something to get worked up over, so she backs down. “Alright, so maybe they were followed. Bottom line is, he’s escalated.”

“She could fit into his fantasy, Jules.” Rossi nods.

“For the last time, Dave, no one calls me that.” The gaze she kept calm for Spencer now rock hard.

“Well, I-”

“These are good theories, we can discuss more on the jet. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch interrupts, glancing one last time between Spencer and Juliette before leaving.

\---

It’s only later the next day when Juliette finally has time to be concerned about Spencer. Although he hasn’t had any more outbursts, she’s seen him less during this case than she normally would. She finds him alone in a dark conference room in a corner of the Arizona police station, eyes fixed on a map.

Juliette knocks on the door before entering, as to not startle him. “There you are. Why are you working in here?”

“I'm just having trouble concentrating out there, is all, so I came in here.” Spencer stutters, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

“Is everything alright? You’ve been off these past few days.”

He looks down. “She wants to meet.”

“The geneticist? You’ve never met?” Spencer shakes his head, so Juliette continues. “What are you worried about?”

“It’s just- What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Why wouldn’t she like you?”

“I slouch, my hair's too long, my tie's perpetually crooked.”

Juliette has to hold back a smile. “I like your hair, it suits you.”

Spencer looks up. “Really?”

“I think you’re excited, but afraid. Trust me, seeing her will only make your relationship better.” She actually smiles, suddenly excited at the prospect of Spencer meeting this girl for the first time. “When does she want to meet?”

“Right when we get back.”

“Don’t psych yourself out, everything will work out.”

“Thank you.” Spencer smiles, looking back to his profile.

The case still hadn’t gone anywhere that evening, so Hotch sends the team to the hotel to get some sleep. Juliette takes this as an opportunity to do some research of her own, setting up at the desk with her laptop and the case files.

She’s working for less than an hour before being interrupted by a knock on the door. When she stands to look through the peephole, Hotch is waiting in a wrinkled polo shirt, holding a brown takeout bag.

Juliette opens the door for him to enter, not hiding her confusion. “You can’t survive on coffee forever.” Hotch says, raising his eyebrows at her desk setup.

She starts moving her things aside, clearing off a space for them to eat. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” He counters, pulling out dish after dish of Chinese food.

Once they’re seated and devouring their first meal of the day, Juliette speaks up. “So, why are you really here?”

“I can’t just want to spend time with you?” Aaron fakes offense, but Juliette just shrugs. “Well, Jack has a soccer game on Saturday, and he’s been asking to see the agent who knows all about Star Wars again, so if you’re not busy this weekend, we’d love for you to join us.”

“Sounds fun, as long as we can get this case closed.” She smiles, glancing to the files. “I spoke to Spencer today. I think he’s alright, just stressed.”

“Thank you.” He pauses, staring a little too intently at his egg roll. “Why don’t you like being called Jules?”

Juliette exhales, almost laughing to avoid tears forming in her eyes. “It was a dumb nickname Griffin gave me, because I was his jewel. Dave started using it as a joke, but it just stuck. I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday, I just need to get used to it again.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s understandable.” He meets her eyes, then nods to the computer. “What were you doing?”

“Well, I was looking at the crime scene photos, and the dislocated joints reminded me of marionettes. I’m no Garcia, but she needs some sleep, so I was searching for deaths relating to puppeteers that could have triggered the UnSub.”

“How can I help?”

\---

They solve the case the next morning, flying back in time to do paperwork before they go home. In the bullpen, Morgan and Garcia are rounding up team members for drinks, while Hotch is looking over a file for Juliette at her desk. “Wait a second, where’s Spencer?” Garcia asks, noticing his empty seat.

“He said he had something important to do.” Blake shrugs.

Morgan smiles, half-laughing as he says; “Pretty boy has a girlfriend.”

“What?” Garcia sequels, following him and JJ out of the office, begging for gossip.

Hotch looks back to Juliette, raising his eyebrows. She just shrugs, but her soft smile tells him everything he needs to know. “This looks good. We’ll pick you up at nine?”

“Sounds good.” She smiles, packing her tote as he heads back to his office.

She’s so lost in thought, thinking about Spencer’s date and seeing Jack again, that she doesn’t notice Blake still at her desk. “Weekend plans?”

Juliette jumps, startled, but quickly collects herself. “Uh- yeah. Jack has a soccer game.”

Blake nods, but her face twists. “This may be out of line, but are you and Hotch…”

“We’re just friends.” She interrupts, picking up the last of her things. “See you on Monday.”

\---

Juliette hears the soft knock at exactly nine the next morning, hopping to the door while slipping on her boot. “Juliette!” Jack yells as soon as the door opens, attaching to her legs in a hug.

“Hey, Jack.” She smiles, looking up to Aaron as she returns the hug. “I just need to grab my phone.”

She only leaves for a moment, but returning with her phone, Jack’s pointing across her living room. “You know how to play piano?”

“Yes, I do.” She smiles, appreciating Aaron doing the same.

“Can I play it?” He asks, as politely as an excited 7-year-old can.

“Of course, but not right now.” Juliette says, opening the door to leave.

As soon as they arrive at the park, Jack runs to his friends while the couple takes a seat in a set of lawn chairs. As the coaches meet with the teams, Juliette leans to Aaron. “Blake asked if we’re together yesterday.”

“Really, Blake?” He shakes his head. “Should we say something to the team?”

“Nah, they’ll figure it out eventually.” Juliette nudges Aaron as Jack runs onto the field. “We could place a bet on how long it takes for Dave to gossip.”

Their laughter turns to cheers, clapping whenever Jack so much as kicks the ball. In a close 2-1 steal, his team wins the game. As soon as he’s done celebrating with his teammates, Jack runs to give his dad a high-five. “Can we get ice cream?”

As Juliette stifles her laughter, Hotch nods. “I think so, but you need a good lunch first.”

So the trio stops for burgers, at Jack’s request, before venturing to a local ice cream shop. Juliette wishes she could simply enjoy the day, but she can’t help but notice how Jack has the same ice cream order Griff did, or how she feels when Blackbird plays from Aaron’s car radio.

When the boys walk Juliette to her door, Jack looks up to his dad before giving Juliette his best puppy-dog eyes. “Can I please play your piano?”

“Go ahead.” She says, opening her door and gesturing to the instrument.

Jack immediately runs up to the bench, pressing random keys as Hotch worries about Juliette’s neighbors. As if she could read his mind, Juliette smiles. “Don’t worry, they can’t hear a thing.”

When the music stops, Jack pipes up. “Can you play something?”

“Uh- sure.” Juliette send Hotch a smile, sitting at the bench next to Jack. She decides to play Für Elise, and while Beethoven may not be her favorite, most people know and are impressed by it.

Sometimes, Juliette forgets how much she enjoys playing music. It’s relaxing, the way she can become totally lost in a piece, forgetting about any worries from her day. She plays for less than a minute, as that’s about as long as Jack’s attention span, but she’s surprised when they clap after she’s finished.

“That’s beautiful.” Aaron smiles, warming Juliette’s heart.

“Let’s see if you know this one.” She smirks, turning back to play the opening of Something by the Beatles.

It seems as though Jack inherited his dad’s love for classic rock, as he starts dancing around her living room. These songs are practically second nature to her, and trying to ignore the reasons why, she looks up from the keys to lock eyes with Aaron, and suddenly it’s all worth it.

The party has to end at some point, but the smiles on their faces make Juliette’s day. Pulling Jack in for one last hug, she looks up to Aaron. “Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun.”

“We had a lot of fun as well, so thank you.”

Opening the door, she sends them one last smile. “Goodbye Aaron, see you Monday.”

“Goodbye, Juliette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter. The little Aaron and Jules moments are the reason I wrote this story, and while I'm not a huge fan of Jack in the show, I'm hoping I can write him in a way that does his character justice. 
> 
> I didn't talk about it much, but this was the marionette episode. It's one of my favorites, with the absolute creativity and odd personal relationship I have to it.


	12. compulsion to move

An uneventful week passes, bringing Juliette to the next Saturday. With Jack at a sleepover and no impending cases, her and Aaron meet for an early brunch with plans to spend their day at a DC museum.

They’re at an elegant diner just outside of Quantico, a place Juliette enjoys because they serve mimosas and smells of flowers. The last thing she expects to hear over the background chatter is the sound of Aaron’s phone ringing.

Although she hadn’t had the chance to speak with Spencer about his date, she had a feeling it didn’t go as planned when he’s more withdrawn from the team. Even so, she didn’t expect for Aaron’s face to fall the second he answers the call, waving over their waitress while reassuring the person on the other side.

Hanging up, he finally turns to Juliette. “That was Reid. He said there’s an emergency, that I need to meet him at Quantico as soon as possible.”

She’s just as confused as him, but pulls out her wallet and places a few bills on the table before following him outside. The car ride is filled with tension, the two grilling each other about what could be going on. “That’s all he said? Nothing else?” Juliette pries.

“No, you heard how short the call was, that’s all he said.” Aaron answers, obviously stressed. “Do you know what this could be about? Does he really have a girlfriend?”

“I’m sorry, that was a dumb question.” She takes a breath. “I think they’re dating, but he would only call her from a payphone. I didn’t press why, he said he was happy. God, I fucked up.”

“Hey, we don’t even know what’s going on yet.” He reaches out for her hand, lacing their fingers together and tightening his grip. “Nothing’s your fault, we’ll figure this out.”

Racing into his office, no one acknowledges why Juliette is there, just that she can help. Spencer sits on Hotch’s couch, holding a stack of letters. “I believe the woman I’ve been talking to, Maeve Donovan, is in trouble. Our correspondence started 10 months ago. She wrote me a compliment on my _Journal of Behavioral Psych_ article, and for 3 months, this is how we communicated, because she was scared.”

Hotch’s brow furrows. “Scared of whom?”

“She didn't know, only that he was dangerous. Horribly threatening phone calls, letters, emails, no matter where she moved. It's why I never called her from the same phone booth twice.”

“How do you know she’s in danger?”

“Because we always addressed our letters to pseudonyms.”

“And you’re Dr. Joseph Bell?” Juliette asks, holding up one of the letters she had started reading.

“The real-life inspiration for Sherlock Holmes.” Spencer nods. “And that codename is how I know she's in trouble. The voice on the phone identified himself as Adam Worth. That was the American criminal that Arthur Conan Doyle based the character of Moriarty on.”

“What did he say to you?” Hotch asks.

“Zugzwang.”

Hotch looks confused, so Juliette explains. “It's a chess term. It describes the point in a game when a player realizes they’ll inevitably be checkmated. They have to decide whether to resign or play through to the end.”

“You know if you're right about this, then you're apart of his victimology, too.” He says, the concern in his voice almost scaring Juliette.

“I know.” Spencer nods. “Please help me.”

So Hotch calls the team in, and after a briefing, everyone agrees to help on their own time. Blake and Juliette continue to read over the letters, while Garcia searches for any information about Maeve.

Quickly, they know her family, where she worked, and where she might be living. Breaking off into groups, Juliette goes with Morgan to the loft, while Hotch and Spencer plan to interview her parents.

In the loft, broken glass scattered across the carpet points to a struggle, but there are no signs of forced entry. They bring in a crime scene unit before returning to Quantico, only to learn that in the process of speaking with Maeve’s parents, they found out that she was previously engaged.

Hotch, Spencer, Morgan, and Juliette immediately leave to talk with the man, Robert Putnam, but with Spencer now on a war path, he’s only calmed down by the unit chief’s stern tone telling him to slow down.

His girlfriend, Diane, answers the door and allows them to enter. However, when Robert enters the room, Spencer’s rage turns to confusion. “I know you.”

Hotch instantly pushes him out of the apartment, with Juliette on his tail. “Why did he just recognize you?”

Spencer quickly tries to stutter out the story. “A couple of weeks ago, Maeve and I were going to meet. He was at the restaurant. I caught him looking at me and something felt off about him.”

Now, it’s Hotch turn to be mad. “And you're telling me this now?”

“I didn't know who he was, and then a friend of his sat down, so I just assumed that I overreacted.”

“You know you can’t be in there.” Juliette interjects, glancing to Hotch. “Come on, we’ll be outside.”

Standing in the October chill, Juliette tries to reassure Spencer, but all he can do is pace the sidewalk, muttering to himself. They’re only interrupted by Diane exiting the building, skipping Juliette and walking directly to Spencer. “Excuse me, doctor? Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Juliette steps up, speaking for him. “We’ll be in touch, ma’am.”

In the end, Robert had no information for them. He showed photos proving he was being stalked as well, and while they were able to bring them in for evidence, they’re no closer to finding the UnSub.

The team is left to brainstorm in the conference room again, but after JJ and Garcia leave to process the photos, they quickly come running back in. Showing the team a photo, it’s an image of Maeve with her eyes blacked out. “I don’t get it. I mean, I see the message _I'm obliterating you_ , but we already knew that.” Spencer says.

JJ shakes her head. “No, see, it's not about the message. It's about the medium, what he used to draw on her face.”

“Is that black eyeliner?” Juliette asks, leaning over her shoulder to get a better look.

JJ nods. “The stalker's a woman. That's why she masked her voice on the phone. That's why Maeve let her in to her loft. She thought what we thought, that her stalker was a man. But the question is, how could this UnSub have known about Maeve and you?”

For the first time that day, Juliette’s glad to see Spencer’s wheels turning. “Hotch, did you ever identify me to Bobby Putnam's girlfriend?”

“What?” Hotch asks.

“Did you say my name to her? Did you call me Dr. Reid or Agent Reid?”

“I never mentioned you at all. Why?”

“She knew he was a doctor.” Juliette explains, following Spencer out of the room.

Unfortunately, by the time they arrive back at the apartment, Bobby and Diane are gone. However, blood and glass on the floor show they know who they’re looking for. At least, that was until Garcia called to let them know that Diane Huntington was a fake name, and she only called Bobby from a burner phone.

When they realize there’s not much more that they can get from the apartment, they hand it over to the crime scene unit and head back to the round table once again. “All right, what tops the list of motivator for female stalkers?” JJ asks.

“Prior sexual intimacy.” Juliette answers. “Spencer, could that fit Maeve? Could she have been in a relationship with this woman?”

He shakes his head. “No, no.”

“Reid, this morning you didn’t know that she was engaged.” Morgan counters.

“Yeah, but the answer is no.”

Juliette knows it’s not worth fighting, so she continues. “Well, the second most common is celebrity stalking”

“That fits better.” Spencer nods. “Maeve’s a star in her field.”

“That’s a stretch.” Morgan rebuttals. “Celebrity stalkers are usually nonviolent.”

“You want to tell that to John Lennon, Derek? What was it that Mark David Chapman said after he shot him? _It was like all of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided_. Well, Maeve is somebody and this bitch is a nobody.” Spencer stops himself, finally sitting in a chair and rubbing his eyes. “I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. I can't be very helpful right now.”

“Yes, you can.” Juliette says. “Maeve probably revealed details about the UnSub to you and neither of you noticed.”

Frustrated, Spencer exhales. “There's too much of it and I can't sort through it with any clarity.”

“Then pick one of us and we’ll go through it with you.” Hotch offers, but it’s more like an order.

“Juliette.”

She nods. “Let’s get out of here.”

They walk to a park just around the corner, sitting at a chess board among the greenery and children giggling. Juliette plays first, allowing him to think about his next move and not what he’s saying. “When you think of Maeve, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

“Thomas Merton.”

“What about him?”

“In her letters, she would always sign off with a quote from one of her favorite philosophers. When we had the near miss at the restaurant a couple of weeks ago, she left me a book with a quote by Thomas Merton written inside. It said, _Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone. We find it in another_.”

“That’s really sweet.” Juliette smiles for a moment, then continues. “Did you ever compare people you dated?”

“November 4th, 3:46 PM. I asked if she dated a lot growing up, she said ‘No way, do you know how many Friday nights I had where it was just me and a microscope?’”

Juliette has to hold back a laugh. “What about co-workers?”

“Maeve was the only female doctor at her University.”

“What was it like for her?”

“She once spoke about the awkwardness of being the only woman in the department. _When men are jealous of your success in the lab, they want it for themselves, but women want it so you can't have it_.” Spencer pauses, and Juliette knows it’s not because of the chess game. “What if the UnSub worked there, not as a doctor, but a grad student working on her PhD?”

“Alright, but how could Maeve miss her?”

“Each of the doctors has their own project. Each project has its own team of research assistants. They don't mingle, but they'd be the first applicants for an open position.” He explains. “If Maeve rejected her thesis, Diane would take it personally.”

Juliette calls Garcia with his theory as they’re walking back, and by the time they’re sitting at the round table, she had a name. Diane Turner was a research assistant at the University who was rejected by Maeve for their PhD program.

Finding her apartment’s easy, but of course she isn’t there, at least in person. A security camera in the corner of the rooms shows she is watching them, and before anyone can do anything, Spencer’s holding a paper to the lens with a deal, _me for her_.

Juliette desperately want to push him out of the view of the camera and tell him what he’s doing is dumb, but she knows she would do the same thing. Less than a minute after he held up the note, Spencer’s phone is ringing. The conversation’s short, but Diane forces Maeve to give him a clue; _it’s easy as pie_.

They might as well be a boomerang at this point, heading straight back to the bullpen and scurrying to find a map for Spencer. It turns out to be pointless, because Garcia finds a loft that Diane rented under her parents name, and the team’s leaving just as soon.

Spencer jumps out of the SUV before it could fully stop, opening a small black box on the steps that, if he were in the right state of mind, would know could very well be a bomb. But it wasn’t, instead only containing a simple black blindfold.

As the rest of the team approaches the door, Diane’s voice sounds from the intercom. “Take your gun and vest off, and come in alone.”

Ignoring Hotch’s pleas, Spencer does as he’s told. Without even an earpiece to listen in, the team’s stuck waiting outside until there’s some sort of signal to enter. Everyone’s anxious, JJ with tears welling in her eyes while Juliette has her hands on the back of her neck.

Almost five minutes pass until a single gunshot sounds, and Hotch points to the door, yelling. “Let’s go.”

Fortunately, no one’s critically injured, but Diane’s holding a gun to Maeve’s head and screaming for everyone to stay back. With no clear shot of Diane, all that the team can do is stand behind Spencer as he attempts to talk her down.

It all happens so fast, Spencer offering to take Maeve’s place, her quoting the fateful Thomas Merton line, and a single, powerful gunshot.

Each team member has a different reaction, Morgan huffing in fury, JJ and Blake quietly sobbing, Hotch and Rossi simply lowering their guns in defeat. It takes everything in her for Juliette not to fall to the ground as Spencer does, swaying on her feet as the sight of the women reminds her of a similar scene five years prior.

Even if it feels like it shouldn’t, life continues around them. One by one, team members leave the loft, and soon Hotch’s directing a crime scene team in. Slowly, Juliette reaches out to Spencer’s shoulder, and thankful he allows her to guide him out to an ambulance.

She stares out to the rest of the team standing in silence around an SUV, feeling Spencer’s hand clench hers as the EMT cleans and wraps his graze. Tears never stop streaming down his face, and though his labored breathing slows, it seems he’s slipping into a state of catatonia to the psychology majors of the team.

Hotch makes the executive decision that any work relating to this case can wait until Monday, sending the team home before walking over to Juliette and Spencer. They wordlessly agree that Hotch will drive Spencer to his apartment, Juliette sitting in the back of the SUV with him and squeezing his hand periodically.

She walks him up to his apartment, guiding him to his couch where only then do they exchange a long, tearful hug. “Do you want to me to stay?” Juliette asks, as he lays horizontally on the chair.

“No.” Spencer mumbles.

So she stands up, taking one more pass at his fetal position before whispering. “You know none of this was your fault, right?”

But all Juliette can do when he doesn’t respond is leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter honestly hurt to write. I have such a soft spot for Maeve and Spencer, and as unnecessary I think it was of CBS to kill her off, it fit with my storyline. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this far!!


	13. a reminder of authenticity

A week of radio silence from Spencer passes. He responded with an 'OK’ after Hotch texted him to take as much time as he needs, but other than that, no one on the team knows how he’s doing.

Everyone has their own way of reaching out, Garcia with goodie baskets, Morgan with joking, yet loving, voicemails, and JJ with motherly texts. Juliette’s left one voicemail for Spencer with the contact information for Maeve’s parents so they could give him funeral information, which was held the following Tuesday under the moonlight.

She’s been withdrawn in the days after Maeve died, a surprise to no one. Juliette doesn’t mean to worry Aaron, she just finds processing her emotions easier alone, but he still does. She works at her desk with earbuds in, ignoring the bullpen from 9-5 until she can wordlessly return home. They spend one week working from the office, but soon cases pile up and the team is needed in New York.

Juliette wants to give Spencer space, but the morning they’re meant to fly out to the city, worry overwhelms Juliette. Aaron allows her to stay behind, most likely out of sympathy for how personal the situation is, and work the case remotely.

So while the rest of the team boards the jet, Juliette makes the drive to Spencer’s apartment. She doesn’t receive a response to knocking on his door, not that she expected one, so she just starts talking. “Hey Spencer, it’s Juliette. I know you don’t want to see anyone, but I have some stuff I really want to say. Do you think you could just… knock twice if you’re there?”

It takes a moment, but two slow knocks come from the wall next to his door. Juliette smiles through the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, turning to sit against the wall.

“Aaron suggested I talk about Griffin’s death, but I’m not sure that would do any good. I’ll give you the story if you’d like, I’d have to come inside because it might make some people mad, but I doubt sympathy for me would help.”

She continues, “I do know that isolating yourself won’t help. After Griff’s funeral, I shut everyone out. I didn’t talk to any of our friends, I didn’t speak to my mom for years, I transferred to a team that didn’t speak to each other unless we had to. I thought it was better that way, for a really long time. Then I joined this team, and I think I’ve realized that was one of biggest mistakes of my life.”

“I still grieve Griffin every day, but now I have people to lean on, people to make me laugh, reasons to move on, because I know that’s what he would’ve wanted. So, you can shut yourself out from this team if you really want, but I’m telling you family is a gift, and they can help if you let them.”

Juliette waits for what feels like forever, wondering if he was even listening, until Spencer opens the door from his spot on the floor. She carefully enters, sitting next to him against the wall and listening to his sniffles. “I don’t deserve anyone.”

Her heart breaks for him, knowing how strong his guilt is. Juliette wants to comfort him, pull him in a hug and never let go, but he continues. “I told her we could find them, I told her everything would be alright.”

“You did everything you could, we all did. We can try our best, but we can’t work magic, she knew that better than anyone. You _can’t_ blame yourself.” Juliette pleads.

It’s only then that Spencer hears the raw emotion in her voice, asking the question before he can stop himself. “What happened with Griffin?”

That was one question Juliette didn’t expect, but she did say that she would answer it. So she stands, starting towards Spencer’s couch and motioning for him to do the same. He lays across the sofa again, this time with his head in her lap as she carefully begins to untangle the knots in his hair.

“Griffin’s life goal was to be a foreign ambassador, he was obsessed with it. We were just married when he got his Master’s, so instead of trying to become a foreign service officer, he chose to work his way up in the State Department. He would be home more, and he thought it would help him stand out.”

“He did stand out, so much that the Secretary of State at the time planned on appointing him to his first choice of office after just three years of working there. However, this was under the Bush administration, and Griffin was outwardly very liberal, so we started receiving threats from all levels of the department.”

“Most of them were petty, but some of the things they said became more and more graphic, and the bureau was having a hard time tracking who was sending them. I wanted to take some time off to stay with him, but Strauss said I went on the cases or I was fired. I actually went home and talked it over with Griffin, but he insisted he would be fine, so I left for our next case that evening.”

“We solved it within a day, but I decided I wanted to surprise Griffin, so I didn’t try to call and tell him we were on our way back. I got home the next afternoon, and I noticed the back window to our townhouse was wide open.”

Juliette takes a shaky breath, focusing on doctor’s hair. “Someone had placed a hit on Griff, they shot him once execution style. He was still in bed, he didn’t even wake up from sleeping that night. He had a Glock in the side table drawer, but he just slept right through it.”

She almost laughs, simply at how horrible the situation was. “An internal investigation uncovered it was the Under Secretary for International Security who placed the hit. The administration didn’t want the bad press, so they offered me a deal to stay quiet. I’m not really sure what would’ve happened if I said no, but two weeks later it came out the under secretary died in a car accident.”

“I blamed myself for a long time, I still do. If I was there, our security system would’ve been set, I could’ve been awake to protect him, maybe they wouldn’t have even tried that night, and the bureau could have caught the guy.”

She changes to rubbing Spencer’s arm, feeling almost _maternal_. “But it also could’ve happened the exact same, or I could’ve been killed as well. I do know that what happened, happened, and I’m here now. Griff was the most understanding person I’ve ever known, and I know Maeve was for you, so please trust me when I say it’s okay to grieve, but it’s also okay to keep living life.”

When Juliette’s finished, Spencer waits a moment before murmuring, “Thank you.”

They sit is silence for awhile, although their minds racing, until a ding from Juliette’s phone brings them back to reality. As she pulls her phone out of the inside pocket of her blazer, Spencer tenses up. “Do you have a case?”

“Uh, sort of.” Juliette replies. “The team’s in New York, I’m working this one remotely.”

“You didn’t have to stay behind for me.” He says, although the crack in his voice gives away how much it really means to him.

“I wanted to.” She counters, lifting her hand from his arm to reply to the text.

“Can I help?”

Juliette pauses for a moment before nodding. “If you take a shower and let me order some food, then sure.”

This wasn’t the answer Spencer was expecting, but he complies. Slowly, he stands from the couch and makes his way to his bedroom, attempting to feel what Juliette did to his hair. It’s only after the bathroom door shuts that Juliette calls a local Chinese food place for delivery, stepping outside to grab a tote with her laptop and files.

She makes a brief call to Hotch, nothing but professional when telling him how they’re going to look over the case, and to call her with any more info. The food arrives just as Spencer exits his room dressed in sweatpants and a patterned cardigan Juliette believes her grandmother would’ve worn.

But it’s clean, so she presses play on a Mozart playlist from her phone and sits on his couch with two forks and a bag of takeout. Spencer’s attention is focused on the leaves blowing outside of his window, while Juliette finally has the time to notice the state of his apartment. It’s littered with books, coffee mugs, and an alarmingly small amount of dirty dishes.

Most of the books are scattered carelessly across his floor, but one in particular stands out, laid carefully on his coffee table in pristine condition. Juliette promptly recalls their brief conversation over a chess board that ill-fated day, a memory that was drowned out by the accompanying chaos.

She remembers how Maeve brought him a book with the Thomas Merton quote inscribed inside, and assumes it’s the same one. She notes how _The Narrative of John Smith_ is an interesting choice, lacking the criminal aspects of Doyle’s other works, but has half a mind not to ask him about it in that moment.

Once they’ve finished eating, Juliette pulls out the files and they begin to learn the case facts. So much of this case relies on the science of blood, and Juliette’s sure everyone on the team is grateful when Spencer calls every thirty minutes with a new break, ultimately helping them to arrest the UnSub by the end of the day.

When Juliette gets the call he was apprehended, the small, accomplished smile on Spencer’s face means the world to her. Hanging up, she pulls him into a tight hug, tears swimming in their eyes as he buries his face in her neck.

When they separate, Spencer’s gaze turns to the mess his apartment has become, unconsciously wringing his hands in unease. Noticing this, Juliette asks; “Do you want me to help clean up a bit? I really don’t mind.”

“Uh, sure.” He answers, slightly embarrassed. But Juliette ignores this, instead immediately beginning to re-shelve his books that he somehow has organized with the LC Classification System.

She leaves almost two hours later, with a final hug from Spencer and the promise that he would begin to reach out to the team. Juliette sends a brief text to Aaron from the car, mainly an update on Spencer and an overview of their day.

Returning home, she’s barely changed into sweatpants and a tee before uncorking a bottle of wine and setting up in front of her tv. Hours of mindlessly staring at the screen pass, and it’s only when a knock at the door jars her out of a trace that she notices the sun has set.

Peeking through the window next to her front door, Juliette’s surprised to find Aaron standing on her porch, suit wrinkled from the jet ride and only holding his phone. She opens the door, wordlessly inviting him inside.

She returns to her spot on the couch, inviting him to sit beside her. He does, wrapping his arm around her and she nestles into his chest. “How are you, really?” Aaron asks once she’s relaxed into his touch.

“I’m alright. This week was just… bad.” Juliette answers truthfully. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He dismisses. “I got a call from Spencer on my way here, he’s coming back on the next case.”

“That’s good.” Juliette nods, internally celebrating that she _actually_ got through to him.

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, enjoying the newfound comfort in each others touch. Neither of them had been this close with someone in so long, that it felt like a _treat_ , a luxury they could _finally_ indulge in.

They’re brought back to reality by Juliette’s stomach rumbling, a disheartening sound to an ever-protective Aaron. “Are you hungry?” He asks.

“I’m good. I had Chinese at Spencer’s, remember?” She replies, referencing the text.

Hotch sits up. “That was lunch. It’s almost nine.”

“Oh.” Juliette raises her eyebrows. “Well, what did you have for dinner?”

“I could make us something?” Hotch offers, knowing that answers her question.

She gestures to her kitchen. “Go ahead, but there’s not much.”

He waves her off, trudging to the kitchen. It’s only after he opens the refrigerator that he understands what she means. “Do you only eat frozen meals?” He calls out, almost laughing.

“I’m a horrible cook, so pretty much.” Juliette says, laughing through her embarrassment.

After a few minutes of fumbling around in her kitchen, he return to the couch. “I put in a frozen pizza. But seriously, how do you not even own bread?”

“I’m _really_ bad at cooking.” She shrugs. “I rarely buy fresh food, it always goes bad while we’re on a case.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good chef.” Aaron brags, but his words mean more to Juliette than he knows.

He wants to cook her things, he sees them having a _future_. A sudden realization that maybe she should have verbalized, but instead Juliette just laughs. She wears that small, unsuspecting smile that she’s become so good at, and asks Aaron about his cooking.

Cooking turns into stories of Jack, and soon they’ve finished a mediocre pizza and are drinking the last of Juliette’s chardonnay. After a particular story in which Aaron accidentally mentioned Haley, silence is only denied by the romcom she left playing on her tv.

Juliette’s noticed that being lost in thought around Aaron is dangerous, because his presence somehow compels her to share things she never imagined she would ever verbalize. “I did what you said, I told Spencer.”

She pauses, not for him to speak, but to collect her own thoughts. “I’m starting to think the State Department did me a favor.”

Even if Aaron doesn’t know Griffin’s full story, he’s not sure he really wants to. Therefore, he simply pulls Juliette into his side and caresses her hair when she tearfully leans into his shoulder.

Though they both have so many unanswered questions about their relationship, this is all that they really need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, please let me know what you think!


	14. i tried so hard

Spencer’s first morning back at the BAU goes better than anyone expected. He’s practically his normal self, answering questions with long-winded explanations and reading every free chance he can get.

Juliette knows better than to take this for face value, though, keeping an eye on him throughout the morning. Maybe this is why she’s the only one who notices when he reads the same book over and over again, or when he puts double his usual amount of sugar in his coffee.

Nevertheless, it’s nothing out of the ordinary, so Juliette allows herself to focus on work when Garcia scurries into the bullpen with a case.

“Last night, Michelle Bradley went missing from a friend's bachelorette party in Austin, Texas, the third in a series of abductions this week. Both prior victims, one male and one female, had been stripped and beaten with a blunt object.”

“Each victim was at a social gathering the night they were abducted, witness reports say that they were there one minute and gone the next.” Hotch adds. “This UnSub knows who he wants and how to get them, that shows organization and sophistication.”

“He had Craig and Heather for less that 12 hours before he killed them. We could already be out of time to save Michelle.” Spencer says looking up from his file.

Juliette nods. “What troubles me is the variation in victimology and overkill. He’s clearly angry, but about what?”

“These are good ideas, wheels up in thirty.” The boss nods, leaving ahead of the team.

\---

As always, more victims lead the team closer to the UnSub. Michelle was found deceased just as they were landing, but it took a fourth victim for them to notice a pattern. Each person was found wearing a watch they hadn’t owned previous to being abducted, and Spencer was the one who discovered each watch was set to 6:22 by the UnSub.

With two male and two female victims, the team told police they’re looking for a homosexual white male who is suffering from an identity crisis. The man is unable to accept his sexuality, likely reinforced by some form of bigotry in his life.

After this, they retreat back the conference room to bounce theories off of one another. Almost immediately, Garcia calls the landline. “Getting the 4-1-1 on a 6-2-2 is not easy. I am looking up that date, and June 22 is quite eventful in recent history. On this day in 1992, the Supreme Court ruled Minnesota hate crime laws violated free speech. The defendant burned a cross on the front yard of an African-American family's house who lived next door.”

“Nothing in the profile suggests racial motivation.” Spencer says. “Maybe the cross has something to do with it.”

Juliette drops her file onto the table. “That’s it. He’s not saying 6:22, he’s saying 18:22. As in Leviticus 18:22 ‘Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind, for it is an abomination.’”

“Maybe the UnSub suffered abuse at the hands of someone siting God’s will that he should change.” Morgan adds.

Blake doesn’t seem convinced. “Ok, but if you wanted to change someone's sexual orientation, how could you do it? I mean, you're not gonna guilt somebody into that.”

“Conversion therapy?” Juliette suggests, and Hotch seems to agree.

“Garcia, are there any conversion camps in the area?”

For a moment, all they can hear is the sound of Garcia’s typing. “I’ve got a hit. Camp Willing operates just outside of Austin, and guess which biblical passage is on their home page.”

Hotch sends Juliette and JJ to talk with the owner of the camp. Conner’s friendly, the kind of friendly that tells the women he’s over compensating. But they use this to their advantage, taking up his offer to tour the site.

“We've found that immersing the boys in traditional male gender roles stimulates an appreciation of their own masculinity. You have to remember, our participants are in a fragile state of mind. They come here confused, looking for answers. We show them that the path to redemption doesn't need to be walked alone.” He explains.

“It sounds like you seek from experience.” Juliette observes.

“I’m a graduate.” Conner says proudly, motioning for the tour to continue. “When a new participant arrives, we have to evaluate their personal property before it can be returned to them.”

JJ points to a kid. “Are the watches standard issue?”

He nods. “Cell phones aren't permitted. The watches are so that no one will be late to any of their lessons. Structure and timeliness become an important part of promoting change.”

“And what if someone breaks the rules?” Juliette asks.

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers. “It’s uncommon.”

“Uncommon, but not unheard of.” She counters.

“Occasionally a student will act out or reject the program. In that case, advanced therapy under the supervision of a senior counselor is advised.”

“Could you be more specific?” JJ asks.

“I'm afraid I can't. Parents and staff sign confidentiality agreements to protect the parents' right to privacy.”

“And what about the children’s rights?”

Conner ignores this. “Is there anything else I can help you with, agents?”

Juliette nods. “Yes, we’d like a list of program participants dating back fifteen years.”

“That’s quite impossible. Those records are confidential.”

“Well, let’s make them nonconfidential, or we’ll be back here with a court order.”

The list of names is extensive, and it would be an understatement to say JJ and Juliette are fuming when they return to the station. “You should have seen it, all sense of individuality was stripped away. And those kids were so young.” JJ laments. “What do you think was behind that padlocked door?”

“I have a few ideas.” Juliette winces. “We need to go back with a warrant.”

“We’re going to need probable cause.” Hotch prompts.

“Then let’s finds some.” She pushes, earning agreement from the team.

Garcia soon called back with a name from a list that stuck out, a boy who was sent to the camp whose parents began sending money to a dummy corporation that was a cover for a prostitute.

The woman is now in jail, so Hotch and Blake left to ask her about the camp. She’s convinced what she did to the young men was okay because she had parental consent, and while she didn’t willingly cooperate, she did give the team enough insight as to to mindset of the UnSub.

Now having a name and address, JJ, Morgan, Spencer, and Rossi left with the local police to arrest him. However, Juliette stayed behind, using footage of the prostitute’s questioning and a bit of leeway from Strauss to receive a search warrant from a judge.

As soon as the team returns to the station with the UnSub, they’re coordinating a raid with SWAT. As much as Juliette would love to be the one to place Conner in handcuffs, she checks her pride and follows JJ, a group of officers, and a team of doctors through the padlocked door.

It’s a horrifying sight, young men being forced to explicit videos while being drugged with ketamine, and an ECT table in the back of the room that was fortunately not being used.

It takes most of the day for all of the boys to be cleared out, but the relief on the kids’ faces make it worth it for the team. The mood on the jet back to Virginia is content, knowing they made at least a bit of a difference in such a harsh reality.

Still, old habits die hard. Juliette and Hotch are the last to leave the office, only when he forces her to step away from the paperwork well past midnight. It’s an unspoken practice that Hotch drives them to the diner when he can’t see Jack, and so is sitting in their usual spot in a darker corner of the empty restaurant.

It’s Aaron who starts the conversation this time, his constant attempts to learn more about her not lost on Juliette. “You did good work on the case. I admire your passion for shutting down the camp.”

“Thank you, I’m really happy we were able to do it.” She pauses, but Aaron continues to look at her expectantly. “I had a friend in high school, she was sent to a camp just before senior year. She was never the same after.”

“I’m sorry.” He says, but Juliette simply nods before looking down to her coffee. “You knew that bible verse pretty fast, I didn’t know you’re religious.”

“I’m not, _père_ and I never were. My mom was, when she wanted to be. That’s one of her favorite verses.”

Aaron’s not sure he understands the magnitude of what she’s saying, but took from it that there’s a good reason Juliette’s not close with her mother, and leaves it at that.

The rest of their meal is crowded by light conversation, and their maturing relationship made Juliette’s night that much easier. She finds herself thoroughly enjoying their hands gripped together when he drives her home, as well as Aaron’s cologne when they hug goodnight at her front door.

Unfortunately, the cheery mood isn’t carried into the next morning. Aaron’s fielding calls from all levels of the bureau on their morning drive, and Juliette doesn’t even have a chance to ask if everything’s alright before he and Strauss call the team to the round table.

At the front of the room, and without any case files for the team, Hotch starts. “Last month, a body was found in the desert outside Las Cruces, New Mexico. A man had his leg amputated and replaced with the leg of someone else. Early this morning, a body was found in Dallas with it’s mouth sewn shut, like the Silencer. What looked to be a possible one-time copycat now has to be examined in a different light.”

“Someone's out there mimicking the crimes we've solved?” Morgan questions.

“That’s how it looks.” Strauss answers. “This is now an active case, which you will be investigating along with your other cases.”

With that, she exits the room, leaving the agents in stunned silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is all over the place, but I'm very excited for the replicator arc!!
> 
> Title is from the song Madness by Muse, it's played in the show as they raid the camp.


	15. incessantly willed

Finding the copycat UnSub, cleverly named the Replicator, was harder than anything the team had ever experienced. They had absolutely no leads after weeks of constant research between cases, along with no time for Aaron and Juliette to talk about more than work.

It’s a Sunday evening, and with Jack at a sleepover for the long weekend, the couple jump at the opportunity for a date. In an effort to show off his cooking skills, Aaron invited Juliette over for dinner and a movie.

She arrives with nerves buried deep in her stomach, having never been to his apartment, but it dissipates with a more-than-friendly hug when he opens the door. The table’s already set up, so Aaron leads her to a seat before opening a bottle of merlot.

“This looks amazing.” Juliette compliments, gazing over the steaming dishes.

“It’s oven-baked pork chops with acorn squash and roasted potatoes.” He presents, waving his hands over the food as though he’s a professional chef.

Although Juliette has almost no idea of what half of those foods are, she’s more than happy to try when she sees the proud smile on Aaron’s face. Taking a sip of the wine that even tastes expensive, she flashes an impressed grin before digging in.

“It’s delicious.” She nods, giggling at the cocky shrug Aaron does before starting on his own meal.

After being consumed by work for so long, they wordlessly agree to keep the conversation on anything but, naturally being Jack and music. After dinner, they migrate to Aaron’s couch with two more full glasses of wine, conversation becoming more personal.

“I got a call from my mom while we were in Salisbury, she’s staying in Germany through the winter.” Aaron smiles softly. “She seems happy.”

“That’s good.” Juliette nods, but continues when he doesn’t say anything else. “The last time I spoke to mine was when I was considering taking this job.”

“You didn’t want it?”

“I wasn’t sure about working under Erin again.” She shrugs. “I liked my old team, we had a nice dynamic.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to join us.”

“Me too.”

Maybe she had been distracted, but Juliette’s suddenly aware of how close their faces are. Staring into Aaron’s overwhelmingly steady eyes locked on hers, she’s frozen in the thought of where this is going.

Then she welcomes it.

Aaron leans in closer, mere atoms between their lips, inviting Juliette to make the final move. Compelled by the magnetism of his touch, she leans into the kiss with a softness that could only be the result of five years of longing.

Melting into Aaron’s hand as he cradles her jaw, Juliette’s lips move in effortlessly calculated motion to express her admiration, yet not appear overly aggressive.

Breathless, they separate only to stare serenely at the other through the dim evening light. Juliette tilts her head to lay on Aaron’s shoulder, interlacing their hands before loosing herself in her head, the movie still playing softly from his tv in the background.

Times passes with his fingers tracing her knuckles and the sound of their glasses emptying, until Aaron speaks up. “We’re going to have to tell Strauss about this.”

“I can do it, she honestly won’t care.”

He turns to look down at her. “Really? I was thinking she’s going to rip into us.”

Juliette shakes her head. “I doubt it. The first time she offered me this job, she tried to set me up with Morgan.”

She laughs at his eyebrows raising, sitting up to pour the last of the wine. Without uttering a toast out loud, they clink their glasses together before taking a generous sip and melting back into the couch.

Neither of them are sure when comfort dissolves into sleep, but there’s not much time to think about it when Hotch’s alarm jolts them awake early the next morning. Juliette untangles herself from his arms, eyes scanning the room until she realizes where she is.

Once Aaron shuts off the alarm, she stands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s not your fault.” He dismisses, but it’s really his floppy hair and unmistakable stubble that calms her nerves over the abrupt jump in their relationship.

“I have a go-bag in my car.” She remedies, and with that their synchronous morning routines begin.

Exchanging turns in Aaron’s bathroom, dressing in rigid suits, and sipping on coffee as he observes Juliette flat-iron her hair in loving fascination leads them out the door. The drive to Quantico is absorbed by shameless affection, ending with a kiss that matches the fervor of the night before.

Exiting the elevator on the fifth floor, Juliette spots Strauss exiting the bullpen, and jumps at the opportunity to lift a weight off of her chest. Before Aaron can object, she’s striding up to her boss with the boldness he’s constantly captivated by.

“Erin, how are you?” She asks, faking interest.

“I’m alright, I’ll be much happier once all of this Replicator business is over.”

“Won’t we all.” Juliette nods. “Well, I thought I should let you know that Aaron and I have started seeing each other.”

Strauss claps her hands together, a smile ghosting her face. “That’s great news, moving on is always healthy.”

“Thank you” She nods again, swallowing her irritation. “How have you and Dave been?”

She exaggerates a sigh. “We’re going well, I wish you all didn’t need to travel so much.”

Juliette nods sympathetically, glancing behind to where Aaron’s been silently standing. After exchanging goodbyes with Strauss, she can barley contain a laugh at his baffled expression. “Dave and Erin? Really?”

She nods, eyebrows raised, as Hotch goes through the five stages of grief before they even reach the doors to the bullpen. Entering the office, he finally says; “Good for them. Maybe fourth time’s the charm.”

Separating for Aaron to attend a meeting, Juliette settles at her desk with fresh cup of coffee and a mountain of paperwork. Throughout the morning, she ignores the gossip about Blake’s history with Strauss and Morgan bragging about his weekend, only looking up when Garcia enters with a vase of flowers.

“Guess what just came to the reception desk for Agent Jennifer Jareau?” She sings, setting the while lilies down on her desk.

“From Will?” Morgan smirks.

“It’s just… Will’s not really a flower bouquet type of guy.” JJ furrows her brows before opening the attached letter. “Zugzwang?”

Spencer’s head pops up while Juliette stands to look at the note. As the two stare intensely at it, Morgan asks, “What does it mean?”

“It’s the same thing Diane Turner said to me before she killed Maeve.” Spencer answers bluntly.

“But Diane’s dead.” Garcia counters. “So who sent it?”

“Only us and Hotch knew about that message.” Juliette say, before coming to a realization that makes her want to scream. “Unless someone was stalking Spencer at the phone booth.”

“The Replicator.” Spencer tosses the card back onto JJ’s desk, cuing her to take the bouquet to Hotch’s office.

Thirty excruciating minutes later, Hotch finally gathers the team at the round table. “The flowers cleared all of our security checkpoints, which means there’s no explosives, no chemical residue, nothing. They were ordered with a stolen credit card off of a prepaid cellphone out of Philadelphia.”

Garcia, who had been standing quietly in the doorway, suddenly speaks up. “Did you say Philadelphia? Their PD just uploaded a homicide to ViCAP, an unidentified woman was found this morning exsanguinated with her eyelids removed.”

“Just like our blood artist Bryan Hughes.” Morgan says. “That would be his fourth murder.”

“We’re going to Philadelphia, wheels up in twenty.” Hotch orders, exiting the room with Garcia on his tail.

Frustration looms in the bullpen as the team prepares to leave, and a call from the technical analyst almost as soon as the jet takes off doesn’t help. “A second exsanguinated, eyelid-less body was just discovered in yet another Philly park. Officers are waiting for you on scene.”

“Thank you, Garcia.” Hotch nods. “Do we know anything about the first victim?”

“Molly Patton, 27, was a nurse at a local hospital. I just sent her ME report to your tablets.”

After taking a moment to read, JJ starts, “Cause of death was exsanguination, the femoral arteries in both of her legs were severed. The ligature marks look like he had her strapped down, and it looks like she had ketamine in her system.”

She tilts the screen towards Spencer, who nods. “Enough to put all of us to sleep.”

After Hotch assigns roles, they disperse to individually study the case file with an unnerving passion to solve the case now that their team is being directly attacked. Feeling a sense of protection for they people she would consider calling family, the only thing that can start to take Juliette’s mind off of the magnitude of the case is the soft press of Aaron’s leg against hers.

Working the case into the afternoon, it’s all relatively normal. That is, until they’re gathered back in a PD conference room, when the chief lets them know another body has been found.

Hotch orders Juliette and Rossi with him to the crime scene, accompanied by an officer who looks as though he would rather be anywhere else. Still, he shares details of the case as they enter the scene. “Her name’s Shannon Lavin, 29, her husband said she never came home from the grocery store.”

“Another kidnapping in-” Rossi starts, but he’s cut off by the sight of the eyelid-less victim staring daggers at him, with a photo of Hotch taped to her torso.

It was as if you could see steam coming out of Hotch and Juliette’s ears, the way that their fury transpired into the way that they examined the body and spoke about the UnSub.

It’s this fury that causes slight oversights when it comes to anything but the case, including their attempt to hide their relationship. Rossi watches as they move in synch to collect evidence and fill out paperwork in the SUV, their small, thoughtless touches of affection not lost on him.

No one is happy about this taunt, apparent when Strauss video calls the team after they’re all back at the precinct. “Someone profiling our profilers undermines the efficacy of everything you do. Both the Director and the Attorney General want to take you off this case, and I can't say I totally disagree.”

“Why?” Rossi asks, his tone carrying the annoyance of every member of the team.

“You’re victims now, I’m concerned your ability to investigate may be compromised.”

“I believe that I, and every member of this team, has proved to you that we work extremely well under intense emotional pressure.” Juliette implores. “Our abilities are just fine.”

Erin exhales. “All right. I'll tell the Director if he takes you off the case, it's either with my resignation or over my dead body. But you catch this son of a bitch, understood?”

Under the gaze of her bemused teammates, Juliette nods. “Understood.”

The call promptly ends, and as they slowly turn back to their profile, Hotch turns to Juliette. “You know, one day Erin might actually reprimand you.”

“I doubt it, I think I’m usually justified.” At his raised eyebrows, Juliette adds, “She just needs someone to blame if things go south. I doubt the Brass would try to fire me.”

Leaving each other with contradicting glances, they’re separated by a revelation by Rossi. With the news that the UnSub was targeting nurses, he’s reminded of a case that Gideon worked fifteen years prior that involved them.

While that killer had been put to death by lethal injection just five months prior, Rossi also remembers they had arrested the wrong man, Donnie Bidwell, at the beginning of their investigation, and that the media had latched onto him hard.

After a hurried call with Garcia, they rushed to his home. Entering at the sound of screams underground, they’re able to apprehend Bidwell and rescue his next victim without issue.

It seems almost too good to be true when they sit him and his bottle of anti-seizure medication down in an interrogation room, earning a confession almost as soon as they enter.

As it turns out, it was, because Bidwell becomes speechless and requests a phone call as soon as JJ mentions the other copycat murders outside of Pennsylvania. However, it’s getting late, and with enough evidence to at least prove he committed the nurse murders, Hotch sends them to the hotel for the night.

Juliette and Aaron make the drive together, unsuspecting to the team as they’re usually the last ones to step away from their work. Consumed by the joy of finally being finished with the Replicator, they share an impassioned kiss on the hotel elevator, the kind that ruffles their hair and leaves a lasting impression where the other touched.

Of course, this is too good to be true. Juliette’s woken hours later by a phone call from Hotch, and with the word of an emergency and to bring her go-bag, she scrambles to meet the team in the lobby. They’re briefed in the car, by a more-than-furious unit chief.

“Bidwell committed suicide by overdose in the interrogation room just after making a phone call to who we thought was his lawyer. Garcia traced the call to a prepaid cell that, based on phone records, he’s called every week at the exact same time for the past six months. It’s paid for using the same stolen credit card that bought JJ’s flowers, and she triangulated it to a warehouse in Pittsburg.”

He gives the team a minute to absorb this information before continuing. “It’s a 45-minute jet ride, SWAT will meet us on the ground.”

A plan of action is formed in the air, their only breaks for coffee or when Hotch needs to take a call. Silence fills the drive to the warehouse, unwilling to speak into existence the idea that this could be a trap, a horrible setup for the Replicator’s grand finale.

The team is separated into two groups, entering behind SWAT under direct orders from Strauss. Juliette’s group is stopped at the only locked door in the building, guns waiting idly as an officer threads a camera through a gap.

Clearing the room, the groups burst through their doors at the same time with only their flashlights to illuminate the otherwise dark chamber. Corkboards create a box around a body, deemed to be dead when Hotch shakes his head after attempting to find a pulse.

One by one, each member of the BAU freezes when they find a board full of candids of their life, photos of them doing anything from grocery shopping to taking a phone call, surrounded by the word _zugzwang_. Juliette finds photos of herself going on runs, picking up coffee, and even waiting outside of her apartment for Aaron to pick her up.

Trying to overcome her shock, Juliette shines her flashlight to the left, only to find a board between her and Aaron’s full of images of the _both_ of them. She feels sick to her stomach knowing that someone watched their coffee dates, dinners, and even Jack’s soccer game.

Thankfully, their lack of PDA, or physical touch in general, could still give the impression she and Aaron are simply good friends, but convincingly explaining this to profilers would be difficult.

After profiling the room with nothing but anger, each member recognizes their uselessness to the situation and leaves to make room for the CSI. Gathering in a circle, it’s Juliette who speaks up first. “The girl’s been dead for at least two days, and the phone hasn’t been active for twice as long. He’s probably already left the state.”

Unfazed by her insensitivity, Hotch only nods. “Strauss agrees, which is why we’re leaving on the next flight back to Quantico. I’ve set up security details at each of our residences for now, but this guy isn’t finished.”

Ignoring any suspicious looks from her teammates, Juliette follows him to a SUV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!! I loved writing this chapter ahh
> 
> I have absolutely no knowledge of food other than pasta, so I stole that meal from Pinterest. I hope it sounds fitting?


	16. alchemy for the alone

Just as before, the Replicator falls dormant. It takes two weeks of coming in everyday and obsessing over the unchanging case facts for the Director to classify him as inactive, forcing the BAU into one last case before a Christmas break.

Aaron had hoped for a chance to spend a full two weeks with Jack, but when ViCAP calls with a small town serial killer on December 28th, he has no choice but to leave him with Jessica.

Juliette’s in her usual spot at the round table, flipping through a book and ignoring the conversation around her, at least until a piece of caramel popcorn comes flying from where Morgan’s sitting. “What’d you do for the holidays, Leroux?”

“I consulted on a few cases for an old lawyer friend.” She answers, throwing the popcorn back. “I don’t celebrate anything.”

“Come on, don’t be the Grinch. Why wouldn’t you celebrate anything?”

Juliette sets her book down as Hotch enters the room. “I’m not religious, never have been.”

It’s a relatively routine case to Juliette, an obvious pattern and MO, but learning that Spencer found the pattern of disappearances through an obscure newspaper subscription is more concerning.

She tries to pass it off as his usual quirkiness, when he snaps at a local officer or doesn’t sleep trying to solve the case, but finding him by himself in a dark room of the precinct on their second day of the case, she can’t help but silently sit across from him. “What’s really going on?”

His guard is immediately let down, tears threatening to spill. “It’s been two months and fifteen days, I can’t- I can’t sleep.”

“You know this can’t go on.”

“I realize that the socially acceptable amount of time to grieve is coming to an end, but—” When Spencer’s voice cracks, Juliette cuts him off.

“You can grieve for as long as you need, but you can’t do it alone.” He tilts his gaze down to the table, so she continues. “After this case is closed, let’s talk, just you and I.”

Spencer nods, forcing Juliette to squeeze his hand and leave the room.

They close the case that afternoon, and while rescuing a young man and getting the hell out of the chilling small town is a celebratory feat for most of the team, Juliette can’t help but feel mountains of sympathy as Spencer stares idly out of the jet window.

Her knees rest against Aaron’s in their opposite seats, reading in silence until he finally closes his files. “Jack’s with Jessica’s parents for the new year, we could go out for drinks tonight?”

“I’m having Spencer over for dinner tonight.” Juliette answers in an equally hushed voice. “Tomorrow?”

Aaron nods in understanding. “Is he alright?”

“He will be.”

As soon as the jet lands, Juliette’s picking up takeout and rushing home to change into a sweatshirt before Spencer knocks on the door. He looks more disheveled than on the jet, and the bags under his eyes are deeper in her dim kitchen.

But he still manages to talk for the entirety of their dinner, spewing trivial facts about ancient Greek literature. Juliette knows he’s stalling, distracting himself from his mind, but listens anyways.

She’s quiet for most of their meal, nodding along as she cleans up her kitchen and pours non-alcoholic drinks before setting them up on her couch. It’s only when he finishes his train of thought, taking a sip of his drink, that she starts, “What’s going on, Spencer?”

It seems he realized this was coming, but his eyes still well up from the pure rush of emotion. “I can’t sleep, because when… when I do, I dream of Maeve. It’s like the sweetest relief imaginable, but only for a moment.”

Juliette nods in understanding, holding Spencer’s hands comfortingly as he continues. “She always asks me to dance, but I don’t know how to dance, and I never got to touch her when she was alive. I can’t let myself get lost in that fantasy, so I always wake up.”

She takes a moment to think about what he said, Spencer staring at the loose threads on her sofa and not acknowledging the tears streaming down his face.

“Alchemy turns common metals into precious ones.” Juliette starts, catching his gaze. “I like to think dreams work the same way, they can turn something awful into… something better.”

“I’d like to believe that, but…”

Juliette cuts him off. “Try not to think about it logically, just let it happen. You might surprise yourself. It doesn’t make all of the hurt go away… it’s just nice to have those moments of bliss.”

Still unsure, Spencer nods. “I’ll… try it.”

Giving his hands a pat, Juliette stands up and starts towards her piano. “Just relax. Griffin… this could put him to sleep in an instant.”

Spencer starts to awkwardly lean back into the couch, but pauses. “Hey Juliette?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

They exchange soft smiles before Juliette sits at her piano bench, only allowing herself one hesitant breath before muscle memory takes over. Playing Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 12 for Griffin was a sort of magic, forcing the workaholic to sleep no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

He was never mad, just happy that Juliette cared enough to play that song until her hands cramped. That was the beauty of their relationship, they never took the small things for granted. Juliette’s reminded of how much the little things meant to them, the thought of being loved by each other enough to satisfy any need.

It’s been almost five years since she’s played this sonata, yet it flies off her fingers like she back in 2006, tired after a long workday and trying to convince Griff to come to bed with her.

She’s not sure how long she plays for, but looking over after what feels like hours, Spencer’s dead asleep on her couch. Wiping any lingering tears from her eyes, Juliette places a blanket too short for his lanky body over him before settling in an armchair with a book.

After almost two hours of uninterrupted sleep from Spencer, she silently leaves for her bedroom, burying herself in blankets and hoping for that moment of bliss.

\---

Juliette unwillingly wakes up with the sun, and her mood only worsens when never-ending police sirens force her out of bed. Careful to not wake up Spencer, she showers and dresses in a casual, yet sophisticated outfit for a day with Aaron.

Spencer’s still sleeping like a rock when Juliette enters her kitchen, making her wonder just how long he hadn’t slept for. She prepares toast for herself, placing two more pieces of bread in the toaster for whenever he wakes up. She only turns on her coffee machine until she absolutely has to, fearing the smell would wake him up.

Sure enough, minutes after Juliette’s sat at a barstool with coffee and the newspaper pulled up on her laptop, Spencer’s stirring. She covertly watches as he looks around confused before finding his bearings and sheepishly looking up to her. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“Sorry.” Spencer mutters. He looks almost embarrassed, ashamed he took up her space.

“Don’t be.” Juliette answers nonchalantly. “Next time, there’s a spare bedroom. Might be more comfortable than the couch.”

At this he grins, cracking joints Juliette didn’t even know existed and stumbling into her kitchen. They sit in silence for most of breakfast, Juliette reading the newspaper and Spencer a book he found sitting on her counter.

It’s only when Juliette looks up towards a window, taking a sip of coffee, that Spencer speaks up, “It worked, not thinking about it. I, uh- we got to dance.”

“I’m glad.” Is all she responds, but it’s the look of comfort in her eyes that tells Spencer all he needs to know; she cares.

He leaves soon after that, parting with a hug and the promise he would come to her if he has trouble again.

Aaron and Juliette meet at the cafe near her house early in the afternoon with plans to grab a coffee and head back to his place, but instead find themselves wandering the streets of Quantico. At first, laced hands are their only communication, silently watching the New Year’s Eve scene, but eventually Aaron starts, “How’d it go with Spencer?”

“Good, actually.” She nods. “Do you ever have dreams where things are good again? Of those moments where everything was perfect, in hindsight?”

“Occasionally.” He shrugs, giving her space to continue.

“I just, I realized they never really happen anymore.” She pauses. “I’m scared I’m forgetting what it used to be like… what Griff was like.”

Aaron doesn’t answer right away, and Juliette’s scared she crossed the spouse line too soon, until he answers, “I guess I’ve never really stopped to think about what I might be forgetting. With Jack I try to live in the moment, so he can always remember the fun things we do instead of how much I’m gone.”

He trails off, suddenly aware that might not relate to what Juliette was saying, but she nods along. She could create new memories, with him. Squeezing his hand tighter, she smiles softly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

The rest of their walk and the drive back is silent, but not the distant kind of silence. More, thoughtful tranquility.

Aaron starts on dinner as soon as they’re through the door, and even when she insists it can’t take that long to cook a meal, Juliette watches his every move from a barstool.

Hours later, they’re finally sitting at his dinner table with oven cooked salmon and nice whiskey, the somber mood from earlier lost in cheerful conversation.

“I never asked, how was your Christmas?” Juliette starts.

Setting down his fork, Aaron says, “I told Jack about us.”

She’s genuinely surprised, to much to even hide it. “Really?”

“Jessica asked about us within earshot, but he took it well.” He smiles, “He asked if this meant we could go out for ice cream more often.”

“I hope you told him yes.” Juliette laughs, calming both of their nerves.

“Of course.” Aaron smiles. “I also wanted to ask, Jack got three tickets to see the Lion King on Broadway from Jessica, and we planned to see the show on a long weekend, but she can’t take the time off of work. No pressure, but Jack and I were hoping you’d like to join us.”

“I’d love to.” She smiles. “But I’ll have to ask my boss.”

“You boss was planning on giving the whole team the long weekend off.” He plays along.

“If it’s a long weekend, than this NYU grad happens to be great at giving tours.”

Their banter continues through dinner and to Aaron’s couch, inhibited by alcohol and Dick Clark on his flatscreen. It’s comforting, laying in each others arms watching crowds cheer hundreds of miles away, but Aaron savors the moments when Juliette’s face lights up at the Times Square ball dropping, counting the seconds until she can connect their lips.

When the clock finally hits midnight, pure happiness fill both of them when Juliette shamelessly kisses him with her hands encasing his jaw, his own landing on her waist. It’s not a long kiss, more of celebratory one than anything, but it unconsciously marks a change in Juliette, because she’s fully enjoying her day with Aaron, free of the painstaking grief that usually lingers.

They head to bed soon after, joking they’re not a young as they used to be. Juliette changes into an oversized high school tee and shorts from her tote, blissfully unaware of how their night could end if she wasn’t careful, because all she feels is happiness.

She climbs into Aaron’s bed and curls into his chest, furthermore comforted by his arm laying protectively over her. Falling asleep to the rhythm of his breathing, she’s happy.

\---

This time, Juliette wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing, but is quickly overcome by a pounding headache. Still, she stumbles out of Aaron’s bed, finding her balance before making her way to his kitchen.

Aaron’s much more perky than her, humming a Beatles song and scrambling eggs as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Looking up to see Juliette sliding into a barstool, his face lights up. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” She flashes a smile, before muttering. “I know I didn’t feel like this in college.”

Aaron only chuckles, placing a cup of coffee in front of her and watching as she begins to perk up. Breakfast is quiet, yet smooth, both of them seemingly content in another step in their relationship.

At least, until Juliette jars them back to reality. “Is it okay if I stay an extra day in New York?”

Aaron nods. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s coming up on the five year anniversary, I usually visit Griffin sometime this month. He’s upstate.”

His face softens, but Juliette only keeps her rock-hard gaze on his table. “Do you want the whole week?”

She immediately shakes her head. “I just need the day, I’ll take the train back.”

“You’re going to work yourself to death.” He says in a joking tone, but they both know he’s dead serious.

“Says you.” Juliette jabs back, their laughter dissolving some of the tension.

She reaches her hands out across his table, beckoning for his to join them and lacing their fingers together. Finding comforting in his touch, that all either of them can really ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter I truly enjoyed writing!! Alchemy is one of my favorite episodes, I wrote most of this listening to Sleep Walk by Santo & Johnny.


	17. boundless

Bitter January weeks pass without issue. There’s no activity from the Replicator, Spencer’s eye bags revert to their usual state, and Aaron and Juliette manage to set up ice cream dates with Jack every weekend they have off.

Gossip around the team’s at an all time high, placing bets on how long the two have been together after Morgan watches them both exit Hotch’s room during a case. It’s not that the couple has been specifically sneaking around, but no one’s asked them directly, and they don’t think it’s necessary to bring it up.

Though Aaron and Juliette have enjoyed sleeping in the arms of the other and the occasional PG-13 kissing session, sex hasn’t even been mentioned. Maybe they’re taking it too slow, but it’s just never felt like the right time.

Returning from a case Friday morning, Juliette and Aaron hurriedly finish their case reports before parting ways to prepare for their trip. Packing her bag with sweaters and jeans instead of pantsuits feels odd to Juliette, it’s been years since she went on a trip that’s not for work, but she brushes the feeling off on the drive to Aaron’s.

Jack attaches himself to her hip as soon as he opens the door to the apartment, showing her his new lego set as Aaron finishes his own packing. From holding Jack’s hand as they walk through Washington Union Station to leaning her head on Aaron’s shoulder on the train, Juliette chest flutters at the pure _love_ she feels for them.

She loves Aaron. It’s a realization she doesn’t even register until she’s saying goodnight to Jack in their hotel suite, cuddling against Aaron with a book in one hand and his in the other. In hindsight it’s obvious, how could she be this close with someone and not love them? It still hits her like a truck.

Yet, she doesn’t panic. She feels secure loving him, she’s happy. Maybe she would’ve started to panic if she was left in her mind for longer, but Aaron’s leaning off of the bed and digging for something in his backpack.

To Juliette’s surprise, he pulls out a small gift wrapped box, setting it on the bed between them. “I know you said you don’t celebrate your birthday, but I couldn’t help it.”

She was hoping she could ignore the fact that her birthday’s in a week, even swearing Garcia to secrecy, but apparently Aaron and his personnel files had different ideas. Still, she can’t not be grateful. “I- Thank you.”

With a nod, and a cheeky smile, from him, she carefully tears away the tape and opens the box to a thin gold bracelet. A bar across the middle reads _boundless_ , and though Juliette immediately understands the reference, Aaron says, “It’s from the Romeo and Juliet quote.”

_My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite_.

Though neither of them say it out loud, Juliette knows it, he loves her too. It’s the perfect quote, and she can’t help but tear up. “It’s beautiful. I love it, _Romeo_.”

She connects their lips with a softness that’s reserved for raw intimacy, putting her full trust into him. Separating, she holds out her arm and allows him to fasten the bracelet onto her wrist, the gold that now hangs on her neck _and_ her arm a reminder of just how lucky she is.

\---

On Saturday, Juliette takes them to her favorite bagel shop in Manhattan before following Jack to all every toy shop he sees, Aaron allowing it in the hopes it will keep him still for the entire musical.

And it does, because Jack stays focused on the show for the entire two hours, but he’s too tired to walk back their hotel, and Aaron’s forced to carry him. Tucking him in, Aaron joins Juliette in their bed with a smile, because how could life get any better than this?

Bliss is forever short lived, though. Just as they’re about to turn off the lights, his phone rings with the last caller ID he was expecting. Sean’s frantic, and Juliette’s more than concerned when the call ends with Aaron saying, “All right, I’m on my way.”

“Is everything alright?” Juliette asks.

“I’m not sure, with Sean it usually isn’t.” He says, hurriedly pulling on jeans. “He said he got mixed up in something, apparently a girl died.”

Juliette pulls him in for a quick kiss. “Keep me posted?”

“Of course. Are you all right with watching Jack?”

“Of course.” Juliette says, but his worried expression doesn’t falter. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

After one last reassuring nod, Aaron’s out the door. Juliette doesn’t get more than an hour of sleep that night, between her concern for Aaron and a call from him at five AM.

Abnormal ecstasy overdoses, including Sean’s girlfriend, throughout the city look serial, and after talking it over, they agree the team should be consulted. Juliette agrees to meet him at the station, stopping to grab coffee for them and a pastry for Jack, who’s just happy to have some time alone with Juliette.

After setting him up in a corner of the precinct with his gameboy, Aaron informs her that six teens died in the same way at a rave just hours before. He adds that the team is on their way, Strauss in tow because family is involved.

Watching Juliette exaggerate an eye-roll, he almost doesn’t continue. “I want you to interrogate Sean.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Really?”

“I don’t think he’s telling me the full truth.” He nods towards the door to the interrogation room. “Feel free to be as hard as you like, maybe you’ll scare some sense into him.”

While Juliette’s an only child, the sibling dynamic between Aaron and Sean is much different than anything she observed with Griffin’s family. But now she has a job to do, so she gives him a nod and enters the room.

She doesn’t linger on the features the brothers share, or the way they both cross their arms when they’re stressed, instead keeping her poker face and sitting in the seat across from Sean. “I’m Agent Leroux of the BAU.”

“Where’s Aaron?” Sean asks, equally serious.

“In cases where family’s involved, we like to have an unbiased opinion.”

“Am I a suspect?”

“Should you be?” When Sean rolls his eyes, Juliette continues, “How well did you know Linda?”

His expression softens, and Juliette truly feels for him. “We used to date.”

“You told Agent Hotchner she was your girlfriend.”

“She was.” He looks down. “Then it… stopped.”

“You broke up?”

“No, it’s not like that—”

“Then what stopped?”

Sean’s getting more frustrated by the second, but it’s nothing Juliette didn’t expect. “Look, what Linda and I were or weren’t isn’t going to help you.”

“I think you should let me decide that.”

He leans back in his seat in defeat. “We had a fight, it was bad. But we were getting over it, getting back to normal.”

“What was the fight about?”

“My using.” Juliette nods, holding eye contact and not daring to look to the window where she knows Aaron is watching. “I don’t use anymore. Linda convinced me to get clean.”

“What were you using?”

“I’d rather not say.”

Before Juliette can press him more, Aaron bursts through the door. “You’d rather not say? Are you serious? People are dying, Sean.”

Sean looks furious and defeated at the same time, “It was ecstasy, alright? I stopped using, I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Of course it matters.” Aaron says, his voice booming. “What else are you hiding?”

“Nothing! I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

Juliette can tell he’s not lying, and if he is, this isn’t helping. She stands and starts towards the door, “Aaron, come on.”

After one last glare to his brother, he follows her around a corner and out of sight. Leaning against a wall, he starts, “He’s so—”

“He’s grieving.” Juliette cuts him off. “And obviously struggling.”

This wasn’t the reaction Aaron was expecting to his brother, but he doesn’t disagree. “I wish he would let me help him.”

“I don’t have siblings, but do you want my advice?” He shrugs, but she continues anyways. “Be his brother, let us determine if he’s hiding anything.”

Aaron nods, wrapping his arms around Juliette’s waist and connecting their lips. Leaning his forehead against hers, he mutters, “Thank you.”

While Aaron works through the bureaucratic mess of taking over the case, Juliette sets up in a conference room with Jack next to her, reading through the case file until he asks for help with his game.

The team enters the precinct to find them cheering over the gameboy, surprised by Juliette’s contagious laughter and how comfortable she is with Jack. Aaron enters the room before them, explaining to Jack that Jessica will be there soon to pick him up, but they’ll come back to the city soon.

It’s after the boy runs off to find a seat in the lobby that the team enters the room, greeting by Juliette’s fixed professionalism once again.

\---

It’s only the next day, after two more deaths, that they discover wine laced with ecstasy was the origin, and likely coming from Sean’s restaurant. Against Hotch’s wishes, they send him in with a wire and get a confession from a worker who was lacing the bottles, but not before a fight breaks out and Sean’s long gone without a word.

They stay through the evening to help the DEA track down the origin of the laced ecstasy, successfully apprehending the UnSub at an NYC airport. Since the BAU wasn’t apart of the takedown, they cheer from the conference room before making plans for their one night off in the city.

Strauss leaves for the hotel with a wink to Rossi and the younger members find a bar within walking distance, leaving Hotch and Juliette to stroll down the streets of Manhattan, hand in hand.

When they return to their hotel, Sean’s waiting in the lobby. Looking up his surprise would be obvious to someone who wasn’t a profiler. “You two are together?”

Aaron nods, surprised to receive a smile and pat on the back from his brother. Sean turns to Juliette, shaking her hand before saying, “No hard feelings, you’re just doing your job.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She replies, not knowing how much Aaron wants this interaction. They part ways after a few minutes of superficial conversation and condolences, but Juliette can tell this isn’t out of the ordinary for them.

Entering their hotel room, what Juliette intended to be a simple _we did it_ kiss turns into something more, their hands exploring the other’s clothed body, and they probably would have gone farther if Aaron’s phone didn’t start ringing.

Groaning, Juliette watches him answer the call only for his face to fall, mouthing _The Replicator_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, the next one will be much longer! My Shakespeare nerd popped out here but please let me know what you think <3


	18. intolerable reality

After hanging up, Aaron informs Juliette that Garcia has been hacked by The Replicator, explaining that photos of the team in New York are flashing across her screen. Rushing out of their room, they run into Rossi, who’s having trouble getting ahold of Strauss.

Connecting the dots, they enter her room with their hands on their holsters, finding it littered with empty mini-bar bottles of alcohol, yet no Strauss. Hotch calls Garcia to get ahold of the rest of the team, then the three rush to look for Erin.

Aaron takes the west staircase and Juliette takes the east, with Rossi to the roof. Moments after they loose each other in the chaos, Aaron’s phone rings from a number he doesn’t recognize. While he’s being taunted by the threat of forever losing his boss and reminders of Foyet, Juliette spots Erin alone on a bench just down the block from the hotel.

She calls Aaron while running across the busy city streets, promised the EMTs are on their way as she sits next to her. “Erin, Erin, help is on the way.”

She’s disoriented, coughing into her hand like the ecstasy victims. “He put a gun to my head, he made me drink.”

“I’m sorry.” Juliette feels horrible, but the alcohol is the least of her worries. “Did you recognize him?”

“He said to give you this.” Erin holds out a folded piece of paper, panting, but Juliette doesn’t have a chance to look at it. “He said he’s going to race you home. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Erin, did you recognize him?” She asks again, but she doesn’t receive an answer.

“I wish you could have been with Griffin, I regret it every day.”

“I know.” Juliette blinks back tears. “So do I.”

Suddenly, Erin rushes forward and Juliette has to force her down into the bench again. “He knows my family, he knows my children. You have to protect my kids! You have to find him.”

“We will, we will.” Juliette reassures holding her shaking hands as her breathing slows.

Strauss stops breathing two minutes before an ambulance arrives, and there’s nothing Juliette can do but hold her. She doesn’t notice Aaron behind the bench until she stands to let the EMTs in, backing into him in the process.

She pulls him into a hug, refusing to let tears fall because she knows the team will be there any minute. Dave and the rest arrive moments later, and even though the city moves as if everything’s normal, it feels so _quiet_ to Juliette.

It’s not until they’re watching the ambulance pull away that she remembers the folded piece of paper she had stuffed in her pants pocket. Breaking the silence, she turns to Aaron. “The Replicator told her to give this to me.”

She unfolds the paper after a nod of approval, finding a clipped newspaper article from five years prior that reads, _Under Secretary of International Security Killed in Car Accident_. She freezes, as if the world around her had stopped, but only for a moment.

Ignoring Aaron’s expectant look, she hands the paper to Spencer. His eyes widen, and when his expression turns to something of fear, Aaron becomes impatient. “What is it?”

“I… have to make a call.” Juliette says, taking the article back and turning down the street for some privacy with a power walk that everyone knows not to follow.

One call turns into five, taking her from the city streets to the jet. She stands in the kitchenette, fighting in hushed whispers with an assistant secretary about how much she can say for their investigation, and how in the world the Replicator learned of it.

Finally, she ends the call with a huff and returns to her seat next Aaron, ignoring the team's confused stares that turn baffled when she laces their hands. “I’ll explain at the round table.” She mutters, waiting for a nod before leaning into his shoulder.

The team might have reacted if they weren’t in shock from Strauss’ death, wondering what in the hell Juliette’s being so secretive about and why Hotch is letting her. When they land, they don’t wait for Rossi, instead immediately congregating at the table.

Juliette doesn’t sit down like the rest of the team, closing the doors and having them leave their phones outside of the room before placing the article down on the table. “Anything I say did not happen, do you understand?”

After somber nods and heads craning to look at the paper, she continues, “My husband, Griffin, was killed indirectly by this man. There is no record of this, nor his relation to Griffin. To know about this, the Replicator would need to be an executive member to the former Secretary of State, or have contact with someone who is.”

She watches Morgan’s brows furrow, but everyone else remains outwardly unfazed. “I’ll get Garcia on that.” Aaron nods.

“What did Erin say to you?” Blake asks after a moment of silence. Juliette knows it’s necessary for the investigation, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“She said it was a man… that he put a gun to her head and forced her to drink. I tried asking if she recognized him, but she wouldn’t answer me. She gave me his instructions, and said he know her family, and…” Juliette pauses, habitually placing her hand on her chest. “She apologized to me for Griffin. That’s it.”

No one speaks, because it really isn’t much. There’s hundreds of questions they could ask, none pertaining to the case, but they’re silent instead.

“He knew about Foyet.” Aaron finally says. “That’s a classified case, there’s not many people who have access to that file.”

“Who’s Foyet?” Blake questions.

“The serial killer who murdered my wife three years ago.”

The room falls silent once again, and Juliette’s jarred by how much _grief_ could be felt in one day. Eventually, Aaron excuses them to do their own research, and leaves to his own.

Juliette works from his office couch, figuring they have to have the profile wrong because somehow the Replicator is a biochemist, FBI agent, expert hacker, _and_ has political connections.

Rossi returns soon after, staring at the floor on his way to lock himself in his office. Juliette promises herself she will talk to him as soon as they catch the UnSub, subconsciously preparing for that conversation.

There’s not much they can do with the bureau’s systems resetting after Garcia was hacked, but Hotch discovers the Replicator must have accessed his case reports moments before they hear yelling from Rossi’s office.

He’s holding Morgan at gunpoint, sweat dripping down his grieving face. When they enter the doorway, Rossi starts, “Morgan’s DNA was on the glass that cut her wrist. You did that.”

Juliette slowly steps in front of Morgan, “He didn’t hurt her, you have to trust me on this.”

“Trust you?” He looks more furious, but he’s also having trouble keeping his balance. “I bet you told Erin the same thing. Look where that got her.”

Ignoring the urge to punch him, she guides Rossi into a chair just before he collapses and starts to pry the gun from his hands. “Dave, you’ve been drugged.”

He finally lets go, allowing Morgan to call an ambulance. He stares at an empty corner of his office, tears welling in his eyes. “I was too late, Erin. I’m so sorry.”

Once the paramedics take him away, Juliette storms back to Hotch’s office and drops to his couch, putting her head in her hands to force her tears away. When Aaron returns, he sits beside her and wraps an arm around her back.

After a minute, he asks, “Are you alright?”

Taking one last deep breath, Juliette looks up and nods, “I will be once we catch this son of a bitch.”

With more determination than ever, Juliette works with Garcia to look through Strauss’ computer, while Hotch leaves to speak with a senator about who is reading their cases. Together, they compile a list of 36 suspects and gather at the round table once again.

“The Replicator’s directly taunted everyone on this team except for me.” Blake points out.

“You could be apart of his endgame.” Morgan offers.

“Then so was Strauss.” Spencer adds. “He chose to use drugs as his final replication.”

“Is that a connection to you?” Hotch asks, to which Blake nods.

“Erin and I had issues during the Amerithrax case.”

“The Replicator could have suffered a professional setback as well, but was patient and psychotic enough to get revenge.” JJ concludes.

“From our list of suspects, two were agents in New York in 2001.” Garcia says. “Scratch that, Lehman died in October, that leaves Curtis.”

Blake’s face turns pale. “Wait a second? John Curtis?”

“You know him?” Hotch questions.

“I haven’t seen him in a long time, he was a nice guy. We were office agents together, but I thought he left the bureau after the Amerithrax case.”

“Does he fit the profile?”

“He was quiet and a loner, but brilliant. He specialized in a lot of fields, but his passion was biochemistry.”

When Blake finishes, Garcia pauses her rushed typing.

“John Curtis was demoted in the FBI after the Amerithrax case. He was slated to take over the coveted New York field office, but was shipped to the not coveted Kansas City one. He worked there for years before moving back to the nation’s capital. He worked in the intelligence oversight section of the State Department before transferring to the DOJ.”

Sharing a knowing glance with Juliette, Hotch asks, “What’s his background?”

“Only child, his parents died when he was 18. Never married, total loner— oh! He inherited a family compound in rural Virginia, I’m sending the coordinates to your phones.”

Hotch arranges a takedown via helicopter within minutes, Blake, Spencer, and himself in one while Juliette, JJ, and Morgan are in another. In the rush to finally catch him, they overlook the one thing that’s kept them from solving this case for so long; the Replicator’s intelligence.

Circling around the property, Juliette’s group hears Hotch and Garcia through their earpieces saying their system had been overridden, then him screaming _Mayday_ before their communication halts completely.

It takes minutes for Juliette’s helicopter to make a safe landing, rushing across endless fields to find the other chopper smoking in pieces on the ground. She rushes to pry open one of the doors, thankful to find Hotch coughing frantically, but otherwise unharmed.

Her relief is short-lived, because soon JJ yells from behind, “Where’s Blake?”

They find a gas canister on the floor of the helicopter that they conclude must have been used to knock them out so that Curtis could take Blake, which means his endgame is in motion.

Dozens of SWAT trucks meet them on the scene, using heat sensors to find the house where Blake is being held. They enter in groups, Juliette with Hotch and Spencer for the sole fear of letting them out of her sight again.

The team meets up in a basement, cluttered with unseen photos of the team and their families, but a bolted door in the corner has more of their attention. Morgan kicks the door in before a SWAT officer can finish pulling out their bolt cutters, and they find Blake alone, chained to a chair and gagged, but otherwise okay.

Once Juliette removes the cloth from her mouth, Morgan asks, “Which way did he go?”

When Blake answers, “I don’t know,” he and JJ rush off again.

Blake nods to a keyring on the floor in front of the chair. “He said he used eight locks because there’s eight of us.”

Juliette picks up the keys before kneeling in front of the chair. “There’s only six keys, so two will be used twice. Each key is a letter, corresponding to a number on the locks. 7— seventh letter of the alphabet’s ‘G’”

“What are the other letters?” Hotch asks.

“Z, U, W—“

“Zugzwang.” Spencer interjects. “It’s too easy.”

They start to unchain Blake, interrupted by Morgan halfway through. “He’s got the place lined with C-4. We’ve only got three minutes.”

When Juliette’s on the last lock, Spencer starts again, “This seems too easy. Zugzwang almost means a dilemma in chess where the best move is not to move at all.”

When Blake stands, his face turns to horror. “It’s a pressure sensor.”

A second mechanical metal door slams shut, locking them in the room with less than three minutes before their ashes. Hotch manages to get ahold of Garcia, having her jam the signal so that the bomb is halted, and before they can start a plan to get out, Rossi’s miraculously prying the door open.

They dart out of the room, sprinting like their life depends on it until they reach the barricade SWAT had set up yards away from the house. Catching their breath, JJ’s the first to speak up, “Where’s Rossi?”

Everyone looks between each other, confused. “He was just right behind me.” Blake says.

Just as Hotch yells, “Dave!” they watch him sprint out of the house and into the barricade as the house explodes into flames.

Fire blazes into the surrounding trees, and the look of content of Rossi’s face confirms what they’re all wondering; the Replicator’s dead.

The following hours are a whirlwind for Juliette, answering to the Brass and forcing Aaron and Spencer into the arms of an unsuspecting EMT to ensure they don’t have more than a mild concussion.

Finally, they’re driving back to Quantico in groups, Juliette and Aaron with laced hands in the front of an SUV and Morgan and JJ in the back. It’s an unwelcome distraction when Morgan asks the couple in the most joking tone he can muster, “So, how long’s this been going on?”

“Since August?” Juliette answers, a laugh caught in her throat when Aaron _rolls his eyes_.

Morgan laughs when JJ huffs, “Someone owes me twenty bucks.”

They return to Quantico hand-in-hand, only separating at the door to Hotch’s office. “I’m going to go put Jack to bed, you’re welcome to come over after.”

“Sounds good.” Juliette nods, planting a kiss on his lips before turning to Rossi’s office.

Light doesn’t seep through his closed blinds, but she doesn’t let that deter her. She enters the room to find him sitting at his desk, flipping Erin’s AA coin in his hand. She sits in the chair across from him, showing her sympathy in silence.

“You loved her.” She finally says, more of a realization than a question.

Rossi nods. “You love Aaron.”

“I do.” Juliette exhales, “Do you want the dead partner speech?”

It was blunt, but he acknowledges she’s still hurt by his drug-induced words. “I’ll be alright.”

“Good, because I’m getting _really_ tired of giving it.” She stands, forcing him to look up. “Take some time off, please?”

Rossi nods unconvincingly, so she flashes him a glare before leaving his office

Juliette only goes home to change into sweats and repack her bag, arriving at Aaron’s apartment feeling the full weight of what had taken place.

They set up on his couch curled into each other with glasses of whiskey, Aaron being the first to speak up only after their first refill, “Why did you join the bureau?”

It’s a question Juliette always avoided, answering with a shrug when they were training for the marathon. She knew she would have to explain eventually, but under these circumstances is something she never expected. She starts off strong, any sugarcoating lost in her sleep deprivation, “I can’t have kids.”

This definitely isn’t the answer Aaron was expecting, because he sits up with a mix of confusion and sadness. Juliette just leans into him more, frustrated with the tears pricking her eyes because she forgot how _emotional_ the topic made her.

“I got pregnant a year before I joined the bureau, but— but I had a miscarriage in my second trimester. My uterus is fucked up, I’m not sure why, but I’ll never be able to carry to term.”

“I’m sorry.” Aaron whispers, wiping away a tear from her cheek.

Juliette shakes her head, “We thought about adopting, but with Griff’s travel, we couldn’t get approved. Dave suggested I join the bureau, so I wouldn’t have to be alone at home so much, so here I am.”

She sits up, making eye contact with Aaron, “I should have told you before we started this, you love kids and—“

“Hey, stop.” He says, furrowing his brow. “I have an amazing little boy, and that’s all I need. This doesn’t change anything.”

Juliette leans into him for a hug, burying her face in the crook of her neck and letting her body shake with tears from the previous days. Aaron constantly wonders how someone so softhearted could remain so stoic in such personal situations, but he’s coming to realize she’s less impassive than he thought.

He leans them horizontally along the couch, stroking her back until her breathing slows and she looks up to meet his eyes. “I love you.”

To her relief, Aaron smiles softly. “I love you, too.”

They move to his bed soon after that, holding onto each other with a grip reminiscent of the close calls they’d had, falling asleep dizzy from the alcohol and _love_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a lot for one chapter ahhh
> 
> Regarding the last scene, please don't think I'm giving Juliette trauma for the sake of it, this will become important to the storyline later in the book. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! <3


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